


The Sound of Silence

by days_of_storm



Series: The Words Not Spoken [2]
Category: My Engineer (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Friendship, Idiots in Love, Internal Struggle, King's POV, King-centric, Longing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Ram/King - Freeform, Slow Burn, UST, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Yearning, fear of dogs, fear of needles, stolen touches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 52,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25696873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days_of_storm/pseuds/days_of_storm
Summary: This is the POV opposite to Killing Me Softly, written from King's perspective.
Relationships: King/Ram (My Engineer)
Series: The Words Not Spoken [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863481
Comments: 78
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

King had noticed the change in Bohn right away. His friend had always been liberal with bestowing attention upon girls he found attractive, but this time, he was different. King knew that Bohn was very good at going all out, being loud mouthed and cocky and purposefully sexy, but he was rarely shy. And whenever they brought up Duen, he grew quiet, or defensive, as if he didn’t really want to talk about the boy who had caught his attention. And, if he was honest with himself, he was happy about that development, especially since Duen seemed to be a thoroughly decent guy with a lovely circle of supportive friends. 

And one of those friends was the quiet boy who stole King's heart. 

King noticed him properly for the first time in the library. He had seen him a couple of times before, but never by himself, and as he caught a glimpse of him through the book shelves, he couldn’t look away again. It wasn’t just the tattoo behind his ear that caught his eye, but the quiet strength that radiated from him. He seemed very still, concentrating on the book in his hand, leaning against a column, looking cool, for lack of a better term. And he was perceptive, because he noticed quickly that he was being watched and even though King wouldn’t have minded to catch his eye, he turned away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring. 

He had felt strangely disappointed when he had dared to look again and found him gone. He debated with himself whether he should go after him and maybe strike up a conversation, but then he realised that he wasn't sure what to say, so he went back to his table to finish his homework. Yet, half an hour later, just as he was leaving the library, he saw him again, crouching down next to one of the tables on the lawn outside. King realised that he didn’t tuck in his white shirt, which seemed strangely rebellious to him, even though he had seen other first years do the same. He also noticed how wide his shoulders were and how strong his back looked, the shirt spanning tightly across it in the position he was in. 

This time, he didn't talk himself out of approaching him. King emptied the cup he had been drinking from as he assumed that the boy was looking for a cup. He had placed a plate with rice and meat onto the ground and now held a bottle of water in his hands, looking for something he could use as a saucer of sorts. He realised that he was about to feed an animal. Probably a cat. So the handsome stranger liked animals. All the more reason to talk to him. 

King made his way over to him, noticing that his black jeans were ripped at the knees and he wondered how he hadn’t gotten in trouble yet for disregarding several of the dress code rules on campus. King's interest in him grew even stronger. He offered him the empty cup and waited until he had taken it before he tried to strike up a conversation. Clearly, the boy was mixed, his eyes and skin a little lighter and his nose larger than that of his friends, and since he didn’t respond to him at all, he tried to speak English with him, then French, then Japanese, wondering loudly whether he was an exchange student or a transfer from abroad. He only received a cold stare for his trouble. 

Suddenly, a gigantic dog appeared out of nowhere and King panicked, being immediately thrown back into his childhood trauma, jumping onto the table, his heart in his throat. This was definitely not what he had given his cup for! He knew he must have looked ridiculous, standing on the table and shouting fearfully about the dog, but there was no way he would have come anywhere near the teeth of the creature, which looked like it might be able to kill him with a single bite. 

When the boy spoke to the dog in Thai, he felt even more like an idiot. And then he just left him there and King noticed, despite his fear, that there was something like a smile on the boy’s face as he turned and walked away. Bastard!

A couple of days later, Tee blackmailed him into helping him with the organisation of the volunteer trip. Initially, he was annoyed and ready to let Tee deal with the first years that had shown up, but then the tattooed boy arrived and looked right at him, and King sat back down without a second thought, feeling suddenly much more motivated to help his friend organise the trip. He knew he should probably be upset that the guy had let him wait for a whole fifteen minutes before the dog went away on its own and he could climb down from the table, but he found that he couldn’t really look away from him. He looked at Tee attentively, nodding every now and then, his face serious, as if planning the volunteer trip was something that deserved his undivided attention. Only King noticed that sometimes his eyes moved from Tee over to him and their eyes locked a few times. He pretended that it didn't affect him much, but staring into those bright brown eyes he felt a little bit as if a spotlight was pointing directly at him. Nevertheless, being a year above everyone else, he could always pretend to carefully study the volunteers that had shown up and there was no reason to shy away from anybody's glances. 

The meeting was over much faster than he had hoped, and none of the younger students said anything while Tee explained to them how they would proceed with the planning. When he asked Tee about him, he learned that the student's name was Ram, and that he was indeed a first year engineer student, and that Tee mentored him. The thought amused King, because he knew Tee wasn’t a very good mentor, but he was grateful to learn that his silence towards him wasn’t personal, but that he apparently kept to himself most of the time and spoke very little to anyone. 

Well, if that was the case, and he spoke to dogs, and clearly, he had a close group of friends as well to whom he spoke, he would get him to talk to him, too, eventually. It seemed like a good challenge, even though he was quite aware that he might enter dangerous territory, considering how fit the boy was and how fearless he had been with the dog. 

When he came home later that day, he felt strangely excited, even though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Instead of going to his condo, he had driven to his parents house and brought his mum cake. They had a lovely dinner before he went into his old room to check on his plants and moss. As he stared at his little fungi and moss ecosystem in a jar, he realised that his conversations with his plants were always one sided. He was the one talking and the plants were silent, but they grew and were healthy as a result, so he must have been doing something right. It made him think of Ram … Ram, what a strange name. He googled its meaning and was surprised to find that it meant _beautiful_. “Not at all like him,” he said into the emptiness of his room, but even as he said the words, he knew he wasn’t speaking the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time King saw Ram, he was surprised. King had just found him sitting at the very table onto which he had jumped the other day when the dog had appeared, when Duen arrived with the donations box which he handed Ram. And they had a whole conversation. 

He was surprised by how gentle Ram’s voice was, and how beautiful his smile, and the wish to get him to talk only grew stronger. He waited until Duen had left and then quickly approached Ram before he could walk away, simply laying it all out there. He knew he was being very forward, but if that approach worked for Bohn, then maybe it would disarm the silent boy, too? He knew that the only way to guarantee that he would stand still long enough and listen to him was if he were to put money into the donations box. He had also assumed rightly that Ram would try to leave as soon as he had put his money through the slit, so he started with a coin and when Ram started to move, he stopped him by digging out more money to put into the box. 

Ram did look at him, but he did not utter a word and it was impossible for King to know what he was thinking. But at least he listened to King as he told him that he assumed that the only way to get him to talk to him was to get closer to him. And when he did not respond to that, he proposed to call him Ning, because he was so cold towards him. By now, he had donated more than he had planned to, and the last note in his hand meant that he would not be able to buy himself dinner today, but he hoped that Ram realised that he was giving away his money in exchange for his time. When he hesitated putting the money into the box, Ram simply plucked it from his hand and slipped it in before stepping around him and leaving him there. 

King wanted to be upset, and he knew that Ram had been rude, and probably on purpose, too, but he couldn’t help but be impressed by his stoicism. He would find a way to break through that wall. If he talked to Duen like a normal person, in full sentences accompanied by smiles, he would get there as well, somehow. And the preparations for the volunteer camp would be the perfect opportunity.

They met the same afternoon to paint placards to draw attention to their project and King decided to play it cool and ignore Ram. He had managed to talk his friends into helping him despite Tee’s further blackmailing attempts, and when Tee welcomed them all, Boss immediately spoke up to clarify that they hadn’t come to help Tee, but to help King. King decided to pretend that Ram had shown up for the same reason, and was amazed when the thought alone made him smile. 

And Ram stayed much longer than King had anticipated. He helped design several posters and turned out to be something of an artist. He seemed to enjoy the work and when Phu arrived, he smiled and began chatting with him. King sat too far away to hear what they were talking about, but to see Ram relaxed and happy made him feel exactly that, too. 

When Tee arrived with food and was mocked for not doing any of the work himself, he diverted the criticism away from himself by proposing to take a picture of everyone. He even managed to get Ram and Phu into the picture, even though they sat quite a bit apart from everyone else. When King sat down again to continue painting his placard, he opened the picture Tee had posted to facebook and realised that Ram had been tagged in it. 

He debated with himself for about an hour until the perfect opportunity presented itself. Everyone was taking a break and King sat down in the small courtyard beyond their workspace and watched as Ram got himself some iced water and leaned against yet another column to drink. 

King opened the facebook messenger and texted Ram to look to his right. He felt a small spark of happiness when he did. Now that he had his attention, he needed to type quickly. He suggested that instead of talking, Ram could be writing him and while he did not write back, and even pushed his phone back into his pocket, he did pull it out again after King had finished typing. When he held up his phone to his ear, King’s grew a little nervous, but when his phone didn’t ring he realised that Ram had no intention of calling him via the messenger. A moment later he walked away. King exhaled slowly. This nut would be harder to crack than he had thought. 

They met again a week later to continue the work after they had posted information all over campus in the hopes of attracting more volunteers. In the end, it were just his friends that showed up, but Duen arrived to bring Bohn some cake to celebrate a good grade and Bohn’s kept promise to leave him alone for a week to focus on his work. Watching them made him smile. He knew Bohn was jealous of Frong, the management student who was clearly interested in Duen as well, but Duen seemed entirely oblivious and he hoped that Bohn could see that, too. He didn’t like how possessive Bohn could get, but he found that he did understand him a little better now, because he seemed really smitten with Duen and the thought of losing him would be hard to bear, especially since Bohn had never had his heart broken by anyone before. 

He was just considering talking to Bohn about being more careful about his behaviour when Phu and Ram arrived, wondering loudly about Duen’s presence at the volunteer HQ. Ram seemed to realise right away that something was going on and planted himself right next to Duen, sitting close enough to press against his side, his shoulder just slightly in front of Duen’s. A clear signal that he was going to protect Duen from Bohn if he so much as tried anything funny.

King felt his heart grow two sizes. Ram, who seemed so cold and stoic, was incredibly protective of his best friend. Someone like that simply had to be a good person, no matter what other signals he sent off. Weirdly, he found it particularly endearing, because he knew that Bohn was very capable of being hurtful and egoistic when something didn’t go the way he had planned, and while he was certain that Bohn wouldn’t hurt Duen on purpose, he could tell that there was quite a lot of wriggle room between their respective outlooks on who they were to each other. 

He also realised that he would have given a lot to be in Duen’s place right then, having a strong shoulder and arm press against his side and feeling protected like this. He swallowed down the thought and looked away just as Ram’s eyes flicked across to him. 

When Tee tried to talk Duen into coming to the volunteer camp with them, Ram did everything to remind Duen of a trip they must have taken together during school when Duen apparently ended up in hospital. Well, maybe King could offer to have a look into what kind of plants and insects Duen was allergic to and then advise him during the trip. He was sure he could be of help, and if that would mean that Ram stayed close by, too, then he certainly wouldn’t mind. 

When Boss waved a paintbrush under his nose and asked what he was smiling at, he didn’t know how to respond other than to flick it away and loudly complain about paint splattering everywhere. He was intensely aware of Ram’s eyes on him as he wiped the paint from his arm while complaining about Boss. When he finally dared to look at him, Ram’s eyes wandered as if he had never really looked at him in the first place and King realised that maybe his wishful thinking was getting the better of him. He sighed and went back to his task, trying not to think of Ram’s shoulders too deeply.


	3. Chapter 3

A couple of days later, after he hadn’t seen Ram at all, he decided to see whether he might be feeding the dog again outside the faculty building. He wasn’t sure whether he really wanted to be anywhere near the dog, but he might at least be able to watch Ram from a distance. Despite his fear for dogs, he liked the thought of seeing Ram being kind to it. 

He was surprised to find Ram sitting at the table, working on an exercise. For a moment, King stopped and watched his back, mesmerized once again by the width of his shoulders and his quiet strength. When he began feeling a little creepy, watching him like this and realising someone might see him, he decided to approach him. He was quiet and read a little over Ram’s shoulder before he told him that he had made mistakes. Clearly, Tee had utterly failed as Ram’s tutor. Well, there was no way he would allow Ram to hand in the assignment with that many mistakes. Ram gave a start but immediately looked back down onto the sheets in front of him.

King simply sat down and teased Ram about his lack of greeting. King knew he was walking a fine line between annoying and possibly amusing the quiet boy, but so far he hadn’t sent him away and he took that as a good sign. When he pulled on the sheets to have a closer look, Ram held on to them stubbornly and King knew that he was stronger than him and that if both of them pulled, the sheets would rip eventually. 

He almost let go when Ram looked at him. He didn’t seem angry or annoyed, but neither was he in any way amused by King’s sudden invasion of his personal space. He simply looked at him as if he was trying to see what would happen next, and King realised that he was giving him a tiny chance to turn this into something good. So he told him that he wouldn’t let go and that if the sheets would rip, Ram wouldn’t have anything to turn in. He wasn’t sure Ram was entirely convinced, but at least he let go. 

King placed the sheets between them and suddenly found himself in the exact position he had dreamed himself in during their last meeting. Ram hadn’t moved his arms at all, and his elbows rested on the table top on both sides of the work book. But since King had sat down so closely to him, he could only comfortably write on the sheet between them when he leaned against Ram a little. 

He forced himself to focus on the exercise, remembering it from last year. He went through it step by step, looking up at Ram every now and then to see whether he had understood what he was explaining, and each time, he found it harder to direct his focus back to the exercise. He could feel warmth seeping through Ram’s shirt and he smelled his aftershave. And every time their eyes met, Ram appeared a little less cold and a little less dangerous. 

King tried his best not to stare and the skin on his neck prickled a little every time he noticed Ram looking at him as he talked. The fact that Ram still kept his arm where it was made King lean in a little closer while his heart beat heavily in his chest. And then their knees touched and neither of them moved away again. 

The next time Ram looked at him, King knew he was in trouble. Being this close to him was dangerous, and not because he felt that Ram might take offense and punch him on the nose, but because he realised that Ram’s name was absolutely spot on and that he would gladly spend hours like this, explaining simple mathematical equations to Ram, even if he didn’t say a word. The fact that he paid attention at all was already more of a reward than he had hoped for. 

Eventually he had gone through the entire exercise and Ram began packing up. King knew that he should probably walk away before saying something inappropriate. When he said his good byes and began walking away, he was a little shocked to feel a strong hand close around his forearm. King had absolutely no idea what to do, and when he complained, Ram looked at him as if he couldn’t believe that King wouldn’t just follow him, and King’s defences crumbled. He let himself be dragged away and he was just starting to enjoy the fact that Ram didn’t seem to want to let go of him anytime soon when they passed the dog. 

King froze in his tracks and for the first time, Ram’s hand actually hurt him. He pulled back forcefully, and Ram’s fingers relaxed a little, but he didn’t let him go. But none of it mattered, because King could think of nothing else than the dogs’s teeth for a moment. When Ram continued to pull, King shouted at him that he was afraid of dogs. He must have sounded truly scared, because Ram stopped moving and looked at him. Then he squeezed his arm a little and his expression softened. 

Just when King began to understand that Ram was trying to tell him that he would be alright, the dog began to bark loudly, spittle flying and teeth exposed. He felt his heart stop for a moment, cold fear paralyzing him. And then Ram turned around and silenced the dog with a single look.

King stared at him and the dog in turn and even though he was still scared out of his mind, trying to hide behind Ram, he allowed him to pull him past the beast and to safety. He had no idea how Ram had managed to calm the dog down like this and he was properly impressed, but he still felt a little weak in the knees, now that the adrenaline faded. They walked for quite a bit and Ram’s fingers around his arm relaxed a little now that he followed him without resisting. He only let go when they reached a small open air grill. 

As they sat down, King realised that this was Ram’s very roundabout way of saying thank you. It took him a moment to come to terms with the fact that Ram hadn’t yet said a single word to him, but had dragged him all across campus to invite him to dinner. When he asked Ram about it, he actually nodded and King realised that he had somehow managed to come just a little bit closer to his goal of having a real conversation with Ram. 

Trying not to get too excited about that notion, he called over to the waitress. When she turned around, her eyes fell on Ram immediately, and King watched her as she tried quite obviously to flirt with him. But Ram didn’t seem to notice, at least not at first. He simply read the menu and placed his order, without paying her much attention, even as she still tried to catch his eye. King felt a little embarrassed on her behalf and then wondered whether he was just as obvious as her. 

He swallowed down his embarrassment and then explained to Ram why he had been so scared of the dog. Not knowing King, Ram couldn’t have known just how terrified he was of dogs, especially large ones, and he did not want Ram to think that he was silly. He wanted him to know that it was a real problem for him and that he did appreciate that he hadn’t laughed at him when he had overreacted earlier. Ram watched him calmly and nodded, almost imperceptible, after King finished his explanation. 

What followed was a silence that made King’s fingertips itch. Ram simply continued to look at him, but he did not seem to expect King to elaborate. He simply watched him, with a calm, almost kind expression, and King couldn’t help but look back at him. 

When he made the mistake to look at Ram’s lips, wondering if he’d ever get to see them stretch into a smile for him, he knew that Ram had caught it. He was incredibly relieved when their food was brought just then and King could concentrate on that. Only that one of the plates was something neither he nor Ram had ordered. 

The waitress explained that the additional plate was on her in exchange for Ram’s number, and it seemed to be the first time that Ram appeared to realise that she was flirting with him. When he looked down, ignoring her completely, King felt almost sorry for her. And when King explained that he would eat the free food instead and the waitress plucked the plate off the table, huffed in annoyance and left, he felt a tiny spark of hope. Ram hadn’t so much as looked at her twice, and his rejection had been quite obvious, while Ram at least looked at King all the time. 

When he complained that Ram shouldn’t have rejected her, because they would have had free food, and that he didn’t even dare to order the orange juice that was two for the price of one right now from the waitress, he was almost sure that Ram was smiling. His lips didn’t move, but there was a spark in his eyes that made him appear like an entirely different person than the cool, stoic boy he appeared to be most of the time. 

“Give me your phone, please,” he held out his hand. “I know Tee is your tutor, but I can tell he’s not a great help. If you don’t understand an exercise or you want me to check the answers for you, you can always text me.” He was worried that Ram would think that writing via facebook messenger would suffice, but he did hand King his phone so he could save his number and Line ID.

He wanted to ask Ram for his number, too, but he wasn’t brave enough, having just witnessed Ram simply ignoring the waitress’s request for his contact info. 

They ate in silence, and King enjoyed the food quite a bit. He was used to eating out with talkative people, but simply sitting there, eating good food while listening to the murmurs of the other guests and the crackle of the frying oil in the pans, he felt quite contented. Yet, because Ram was eating in an unhurried but focused way, King wondered if Ram usually ate alone. He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject, so he did what he usually did when he ate with friends, he stole a bit of food from Ram’s plate. 

Ram’s reaction told him that his hunch had been right. Ram didn’t appear to be in the habit of eating with other people and stealing food. He wondered whether he was always respectful and quiet when he went out with Duen and their friends. But maybe Ram was simply very different from them, too. Hoping Ram wouldn’t think he was mocking him, he tried to ascertain the level of Ram’s general loneliness. He gave a couple of examples, finding himself unable to imagine doing any of those by himself, except for maybe talking to himself – or his plants rather – or Ram; but that wasn't really talking to himself, then, was it? Everything else, like going to the movies alone, eating alone and sitting on a paddle boat on a lake alone, seemed quite sad to him. Yet Ram seemed to find his examples entirely normal and King understood that they had completely different views on spending quality time with or without other people. He wanted to feel sorry for him, but somehow he knew that Ram probably didn’t feel sorry for himself. Maybe he just kept to himself, in general. King knew he was sociable when he wanted to be, and maybe he didn’t depend so much on others for his own contentment. 

And maybe Ram simply wasn’t used to being teased in a way that was completely normal to King. So, he would introduce him to the joys of stolen food. He plucked some pickled ginger from his own plate and put it into Ram’s bowl. Ram was clearly confused and only ate it after King repeatedly told him to. Then he pulled out his phone and a moment later, King’s phone pinged. He realised that Ram had texted him even before he read the message, and his heart leaped. And when he read Ram’s text, in which he explained that he didn’t usually eat ginger and had only done it because King had asked him to, he felt like a proper idiot. Nevertheless, his embarrassment was quickly replaced by happiness at the fact that Ram had immediately made use of having his number and that he now had Ram’s number as well without having to ask for it. He put his phone back and concentrated on eating again, fighting the urge to watch Ram eat. 

After they had finished, King asked Ram in which direction he was going, but Ram cocked his head in a challenging way and King assumed that it meant that he would walk him to his car. For a moment King wondered why he would want to do that, but then he remembered that they had encountered the dog not too far away from the campus parking lot and that Ram probably wanted to make sure he didn’t run into it on his way to the car. King couldn't deny that it made him feel special, being ushered to his car by someone who seemed willing and physically able to protect him from harm.

They walked slowly, and King knew he was walking like that because he did not want to say good bye to Ram, but he had no idea why Ram kept his pace. He thanked Ram for walking him to his car when his mother called. He felt a little embarrassed, having Ram stand next to him while he chatted with his mum, as if she might expect him to introduce Ram to her, even though she couldn’t know he was right there. 

He only talked to her for a moment, explaining that he had already eaten and that he would shortly be on his way to see his parents. When he turned around, he found a bottle of orange juice right in front of his face. Ram held it out at arm’s length, breathing heavily, and King realised that Ram had used the short intermission of his call with his mum to run back to the grill and get that orange juice for him that he hadn’t dared to order after Ram had so coldly ignored the waitress. 

King wanted to laugh at Ram, but his face was so serious that he simply took the bottle from him. Without so much as a wave of his hand, Ram walked away and King stared after him, completely amazed by Ram’s sweet and yet incredibly awkward gesture. And then his phone pinged and his heart skipped a beat when he realised that Ram had texted him again. 

_Thank you for teaching me_. 

King looked up and watched him as he walked away. He knew he was probably reading way too much into Ram’s behaviour, but he felt like he had unlocked yet another level in his challenge. Ram had allowed him to give him his number and he had used it not to ask for help, but to explain himself to him and just now to say thank you, even after buying him dinner and getting him that ridiculous bottle of orange juice that had been nothing more than a joke to King initially, and suddenly meant a whole lot more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on, the story runs parallel to Ram's POV. The last bit of this corresponds to chapter 1 of Killing Me Softly.

King wasn’t entirely sure why Bohn suddenly became very interested in finishing the preparations for the volunteer trip, but he suspected it had to do with Duen. He had overheard Phu mentioning that Duen had been worried that they wouldn’t finish the preparations on time and fail to collect the needed donations, and Bohn’s plan to force the freshmen to help them out seemed like a typical Bohn-thing to do in response. He was amused to see that it worked and they ended up having more helpers than ever before. 

King threw a couple of spray paint cans into a box and acidentally stepped backwards onto one of the sticks they were painting and he could already see himself falling onto his arse, the contents of the box scattered all around him. He was surprised when he fell against a strong chest instead. The shock from the almost fall was replaced with a jolt down his spine when he realised that it was Ram who had kept him from falling, holding him up and even squeezing his arm a little before King found his footing again. King assumed that Ram would simply walk on, but he took hold of one side of the box and helped King carry it across to where the larger posters were being prepared. 

Did this mean that they were friends now? Or was he just reading too much into the fact that Ram had shown up to help the others, because apparently it was important for him to finish things that he had set his mind to. Like dragging him half accross campus for food. But he had been so serious at the first volunteer meeting, it was impossible to know if Ram had any other reason to be there. The fact that he had been in the exactly right place and at exactly the right time to keep him from falling must have been a happy coincidence. 

King watched Ram as he helped spray one of the large sheets they had hung up. He had rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing his strong wrists, and as he held up his arm to paint, his shirt clung tightly to his back. King was a little distracted seeing the shape of his torso so clearly. He had narrow hips with a lovely curve in the small of his back. The way he kept his shirt untucked usually hid that part of his body, showing off only his strong back and shoulders, but like this, the shirt also clung to his arse. 

King swallowed and forced himself to look away. He had not meant to ogle Ram in the middle of a crowded volunteer activity and he hoped nobody had seen him stare at Ram’s arse in fascination. Nevertheless, he was sure he wouldn’t forget the sight anytime soon. 

Things only got worse when it became clear that they wouldn’t manage to finish everything on time. Most of the freshmen had either left or had stopped working after they had worked all afternoon. Yet, Tee, who was ever resourceful, proposed a plan that was met with very mixed reactions. Tee insisted that if the engineers posed without their shirts and only their jackets, it would drive droves of girls to come and help them out for another hour. King thought that the idea was stupid enough to actually work, Boss immediately began stripping, Bohn only raised an eyebrow but followed suit, while Mek was clearly uncomfortable with the plan. 

King was just about to take off his shirt when Tee loudly called out to Ram and Phu, telling them they were the fittest of them all and that their help had never been more needed. Ram’s face was unreadable, but Phu simply shrugged and began unbuttoning his shirt. 

When Ram loosened his tie, King quickly pulled his t-shirt over his head, knowing he couldn’t trust himself not to stare at Ram. He pulled on his jacket, looking down on himself and feeling entirely too skinny. Both Ram and Phu were incredibly toned and while seeing Ram paint earlier had allowed him to imagine what Ram might look like without a shirt on, he had not been prepared to see glimpses of several tattoos on his chest and lower stomach. He swallowed hard and forced himself to look into everyone’s faces. 

Ram was in front of him when they posed for the photo and all he could think about was that Tee would post that photo on facebook and that he would be able to download it and enlarge it and … he forced himself to think of planting trees with the rest of the volunteers. He would leave that photo well alone and forget that it existed at all. 

He dressed again quickly and was surprised to find that within five minutes, they had twenty fresh volunteers to help with the final bits and pieces. He was so amazed that he immediately began delegating tasks and once they had finished and he happily announced the end of their work and thanked the volunteers, he realised that Ram had disappeared. 

King forced himself not to pick up his phone until he was at his condo that night. He showered and had dinner and only then he allowed himself to look at the photo. He also found that Ram had sent him a friend’s request on facebook, which he accepted without thinking twice about it. Just as he decided to zoom in on the photo, his phone rang. He almost dropped it. 

“King, why didn’t you tell me you had so many sexy friends! Which one is your boyfriend, huh?”

Oh god, his sister had seen the photo. But of course, Tee had tagged him in it. 

“Hello to you, too.”

“Honestly, is that what you do at volunteer camp? I thought you said you didn’t want to help Tee this time?”

“We’re going to go north and plant trees, and I’m not going to miss that! I’ll be able to visit grandma after.”

“Good, that’s lovely. But which one of these is your husband?”

“Shut up!” he complained with a laugh. “I like girls.”

“King, you never brought a girl home once!”

“Still!” 

“Aww, don’t be shy. They are all very good looking!”

“That’s why we took the photo. To get girls to come and help us finish our work.”

His sister sighed. “Fine, be a disappointment.”

King laughed, despite himself. “Good night, sis.”

“Good night, King. And don’t be shy. I’m sure they’d love to date you.”

“Who?”

“All of them! Except Bohn. Don’t date him, he’s a rascal.”

“Bye,” King chuckled and waited for his sister to say her good byes, too. Then he put the phone out of reach and went to bed, trying very hard not to imagine Ram without a shirt on. 

He spent the weekend with his parents and managed to forget about Friday night’s event, but he did look at the photo again as he summarised his own study notes from last term for Ram. Since he apparently had difficulties following the lecture, he was fairly sure that putting down the most important points would help Ram understand things more easily. Looking at his naked chest in return didn’t seem like too bad of a deal, even if King felt slightly ashamed for it. 

On Monday, he woke up with a strange feeling in his belly. He felt anxious, but he couldn’t really say why that was. Exam season was coming up, yes, but he was the best student in his entire year and he was well prepared. There wasn’t any reason for him to feel nervous like this. 

He made himself breakfast, watered his plants and then got into his car to drive to uni. He didn’t get far. Because he was distracted, he miscalculated the distance to a small truck as he pulled into the left lane and the screech of metal against metal made it clear that he had caused an accident. He apologised profusely to the driver of the truck and felt a little better when he saw that most of the damage had been done to his own car. Well, he would have to take it to a garage to get it fixed and take the bus until it was, but nobody had been hurt. The truck driver took his number but did not want to call the police as he was fairly certain that the few scratches weren’t bad enough to warrant any further trouble. King apologised again and then drove to the nearest garage. 

He wondered whether his anxiety had been some sort of foreshadowing, but the longer he thought about it, the more obvious it became that his mental state had caused the accident and not the other way around. As he sat on the bus, he put on music and closed his eyes, trying to think of nothing at all. 

The day went by uneventful and the anxiety slowly faded, but something still felt a little off. It was only when he was on the way to the bus stop after finishing his homework at the library that he realised what it was that he had been feeling. He missed Ram. 

When he walked around a corner and found him sitting at one of the tables with Phu and two other friends, he immediately felt better. He wondered if he should just walk up to them and maybe get Ram to talk to him, considering he was with his close friends. Maybe he would actually talk this time. But then he reconsidered. He did not want to press him to talk to him if he didn’t want to. Getting him to text had taken quite some time, so he would start there.

Watching him from a safe distance and the shadows, he opened the facebook messenger and texted Ram. Initially, he only teased him a little, begging him to write back, but then he felt that he should announce that he was close by and began taking photos of his surroundings. Ram immediately caught on and began looking around, clearly trying to figure out where King was hiding. The fact that Ram didn’t put his phone down in annoyance but actually did what King had hoped he would made him inexplicably happy. 

When he took a photo of Ram, King knew he needed to show his face, so he walked over to the table, pretending that he had only seen them just now. When Phu asked him for help, claiming someone had told him that King was the best student in the faculty, he immediately agreed. Everyone thanked him, except for Ram, who had kept his face down since he had arrived at the table. If King hadn’t known better, he would have almost said that Ram seemed shy.

The boy next to Ram had a question and King simply planted himself on the bench between them and began explaining the formula to him. After he had made sure that he understood everything, he turned to Ram, who somehow hadn’t written down anything at all. 

King sighed and began to explain everything all over again. He wrote down the formula for Ram, but because there was limited space on the bench and Ram leaned forward to be able to see him write, his arm was pressed against Ram’s chest. 

King did his best to ignore what that did to him and focused on the task at hand, but when he had finished explaining it to Ram, and he looked at his face to check whether he really had understood, Ram looked back at him. And King realised that they were sitting very close together indeed, even closer than that last time. Ram’s face was lit by the street lamp and he noticed how his eyelashes cast shadows onto his cheeks and that Ram had a small scar just below his left eye brow. He wondered how he had gotten it and what it would feel like if he touched it. 

Okay, it was definitely time to go. He got up and announced that he was leaving, but then he remembered that he had carried the notes he had taken for Ram on the weekend with him all day and he handed them over, hoping they would be useful. He wasn’t sure why Ram struggled so much with that particular class, because he did understand when he paid attention, but sometimes he just seemed far away and unable to focus. King hoped it wasn’t anything bad that distracted him. He would have asked him, but he guessed that if Ram didn’t even say hello to him, then he wouldn’t exactly be the one to confide his worries in him. 

He saw him again a couple of days later. He sat at the table where they had had their first interaction, but with his back to the surface, a scowl on his face. King smiled, because for once his face reflected his emotions, and walked up to him, sitting down too, but on the table with his feet on the bench, just in case the dog would show up. “What is wrong?” he asked, following Ram’s eyes. Ah, he’s still worried about Bohn, King thought. Ram looked at his feet on the bench next to him and King wondered whether he thought it rude of him to sit that way. He decided to ignore that. “Fine, don’t tell me then. Why are you still here?” 

He wasn’t surprised when he did not receive an answer to that question either. He watched Bohn and Duen giggle together and he couldn’t help but smile. Something had happened between the two and Duen had become much more tolerant of Bohn’s attempts to touch or tease him. Looking at them now, they seemed like a regular couple that had recently gotten together. Duen was still very shy about being touched, but Bohn always found ways to do it in a way that was inconspicuous but which clearly told King that he was incredibly smitten with Duen. Being with him would do Bohn a world of good. 

Nevertheless, Ram’s scowl was still there. “You are still worried,” King surmised and put his hand on Ram’s shoulder, petting him a little. He wanted to squeeze his shoulder, but he wasn’t brave enough. “I promise he’s not the person you think he is. He’s fooled around with girls, yes, but look at him. He’s serious about Duen. He wouldn’t just play with his feelings.”

When Ram jerked his shoulder, he pulled his hand back, hoping he hadn’t made him feel uncomfortable by appearing too familiar with him. Apparently there was a huge difference between being pressed up close against him while helping him with his homework and touching him while chatting. The one could be seen as accidental, but this was deliberate. He was glad that he hadn’t gone for a squeeze after all.

“You don’t believe me,” King leaned forward, his hair falling into his face as he tried to catch Ram’s eyes. “How can I change your mind?” When Ram did look at him, the answer was very clearly written in his eyes. “Fine, I’ll not change your mind then. It’s nice that you are so concerned about him. I think Bohn knows that you are just trying to protect Duen.” 

He made a plan to talk to Bohn about Ram. In the end, he wanted Duen’s best friend to be comfortable with his relationship and if Bohn would explain to Ram that he was serious, maybe Ram would feel better about it all. He pushed his hair out of his face, but it fell back immediately. He had noticed that he was doing this more often when Ram was around and he couldn’t quite say why. Maybe it was just nerves. He dared to look at Ram and found, to his great surprise, that he was actually smiling at him. 

“A’Ning, what are you smiling about suddenly? Do I have something on my face?”

He was even more astonished when a dimple appeared on Ram’s cheek and he quietly said “no.”

King knew he was overdoing it even as he dropped down from the table and came to sit on the bench next to Ram, but he couldn’t help himself. He raised his arms as if he had just won a major prize, fists in the air. “Ning spoke to me! I can’t believe it! A single word, oh, how the fortunes have smiled upon me!” 

If he was honest with himself, he was surprised that Ram didn’t get up and walk away right there and then. While he was truly happy that Ram had finally said something to him, he knew that his constant nagging about it might have become a major annoyance to Ram. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot, remembering that Ram hadn’t contradicted him when he had suggested that he only talked to people who were close to him. Whether a single “no” qualified was a different question, but for now, it was enough. 

Duen and Bohn spotted them sitting at the table and came over, sitting down on the other side of it. Bohn asked King about the lecture he had apparently missed earlier that day and after Duen told him off for skipping class, he asked a whole lot of questions and listened eagerly as he explained the gravitational forces and Newton’s laws to him. Bohn was clearly bored, but since Duen seemed fascinated, he continued to talk, hoping that Ram was paying attention too and would remember next year when he would take the class. 

The faraway look on his face told him that he was probably hoping in vain. Hoping to draw him back to the present, he leaned in a little closer and touched his arm and shoulder every now and then, resting the back of his hand on his wrist as he used his hands to illustrate his points. When Duen leaned in closer, his entire face lit up with a smile about an anecdote about Bohn completely misunderstanding the teacher’s question and giving a brilliant but simultaneously nonsensical answer, King leaned forward too, using Ram’s shoulder to hold himself up. He had been afraid that Ram would move his shoulder and brush him off again, but this time he simply sat there, a barely visible smile on his face as he looked at Duen. 

When a gust of wind twirled around a couple of leaves and blossoms from the tree above them, Ram leaned down to pick up a leaf that had sailed just past his head. When he emerged, his cheeks were adorably reddened and King found himself staring. To distract himself, he took the leaf from Ram, but kept his hand on his wrist to make sure he wouldn’t take it back before he had looked at it properly, and he studied it until he was sure that his heartbeat had returned back to normal. As soon as he had handed it back, though, Ram turned to Duen and announced that he was leaving. Unable to hold himself back, he teased him for actually speaking to Duen while he never really talked to him. To emphasize that he wasn’t all that serious, he placed his hand on Ram’s back and rubbed a little. He immediately regretted it, because even as Ram rose, he could feel muscle shift under his palm and he became intensely aware that now that he knew what that particular sensation felt like, he would want to feel it again. 

He watched Ram walk away and only shifted his focus when he felt Bohn’s shoe kick his own. He ignored the raised eyebrow and continued telling his story to Duen, who seemed completely oblivious to what had just happened between King and Ram.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fateful bus ride :D
> 
> This chapter corresponds to Chapter 2 of Killing Me Softly.

King only realised that he had accidentally taken the bus to university instead of going downtown for some shopping when he tried to walk through the doors of his faculty and found them locked. On the bus, he had started to think about new plants he might buy and then got hung up about his talking to them and how much it resembled his approach to Ram, too. Well, he did not expect his plants to answer, but he felt a little like Ram was so quiet and distant for a reason, and while he truly wanted him to talk to him, he considered that Ram might have been hurt by someone and had closed himself off from everyone he didn’t inherently trust. He seemed a little bit like one of those plants he had rescued after someone had placed them on the curb and they had been half dead. He had watered them and nursed them back to health and now they were sitting on the window sill of his living room, blooming like crazy.

Oh lord, he was having delusions of grandeur. Ram wasn’t a dried up plant that needed a bit of his attention. He was the way he was and that was that. The fact that he had really lovely friends that he did talk to, was proof enough, so why should King be special? 

It was then that he pulled on the locked door and realised that he had completely forgotten about where he was going. It was Saturday and nobody except the professors and students with appointments were allowed inside the buildings on the weekends. 

King leaned against the door for a moment, scowling at the sky which was gradually darkening. If he wanted to go to the plant shop, he’d need to get on the bus again for another fifteen minutes and right now, he did not particularly feel like thinking too deeply about plants. It seemed to get him into trouble. 

As he slowly made his way back to the bus stop to take the bus home, he admitted to himself that Ram made him feel special. He didn’t need rescuing, but maybe King felt that between Bohn paying so much attention to Duen now, and Boss and Mek being sillier than ever, and Tee trying his best and failing at being a leader, he felt a bit lonely and Ram’s attention filled that particular hole in his heart exceedingly well. 

Ram was different from anyone else he knew, and King wasn’t the only one to notice. He remembered the waitress and once again felt a little bit embarrassed for her, but also for Ram. Maybe this kind of thing happened a lot to him, looking how he did, and he just wanted to be left alone. And the fact that Ram had not yet told him to fuck off did mean a lot. 

God, he felt like a teenager with a crush on someone who was so far out of his league that, had he been someone different, he would have kindly taken him to the side and explained that it was never gonna happen. Ironic, really, since Ram was only a freshman. And yet, King guessed that Ram was probably a lot less insecure than he was about a lot of things. At least that was the impression he had gotten. 

Thunder ripped him out of his musings and a moment later, the skies opened. He sighed and walked faster until he reached an area that was overshadowed by trees, though they did not really stop the water from soaking him. Had he paid attention to the weather, he could have just stayed at uni and taken shelter there. But no, he had gotten lost in his thoughts about Ram again and it was becoming a problem, wasn’t it?

Suddenly, the rain stopped. It took him a moment to realise that it hadn’t really, but that he was being covered by an umbrella, and when he turned around, he found Ram, of all people, holding the umbrella over him. He was sure that his heart stopped for a while until it began hammering away. He had not been emotionally prepared for this. Not at all. 

“Why did you come to the faculty on Saturday?” he asked when Ram simply looked at him without a word. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, but regular clothes, with sunglasses dangling from his shirt collar. 

“Oh, you came to hand in your homework,” he realised, hoping that his notes had helped him with that. “Are you going back now?”

Ram nodded. 

“Leave then. I can go by myself. I’m soaked anyway. I’ll be at the bus station soon, just go first.” King wasn’t sure why he said the opposite of what he wanted to say, but the umbrella was fairly small after all and standing so close to Ram, especially after spending all morning thinking about him, was a little overwhelming. 

When Ram took hold of his arm and began to pull him away, just as he had after he had helped him with his exercise and before their dinner together, King’s feet had trouble keeping up. He heard himself complain, but all he could think of was that Ram didn’t just do things without having a plan and what worried and excited him in equal parts was the fact that he had no idea what that plan was. “Where are you taking me?” he asked, not actually wanting to know the answer. He almost fell over his own two feet several times, but Ram held on tightly, making sure he stayed upright. 

When they reached the bus stop, King felt strangely disappointed, even though it made more sense than any of his half-baked ideas of where Ram might want to take him. Ram closed the umbrella and a moment later, in an utterly ironic turn of events, it stopped raining. “Why didn’t you say we were heading in the same direction?” he asked, wishing more than ever that Ram would just talk to him. “Are you taking the bus, too?”

Frustratingly, Ram didn’t answer that question either. Thankfully, King’s bus approached and he couldn’t quite wait to be left alone with his thoughts again. He still felt Ram’s hand on his arm where he had gripped him and he couldn’t quite ignore how being looked at by Ram made him feel. He was even more surprised when Ram took his other arm this time and dragged him onto the bus. “Oi, you’re pulling me again, I’m not a dog! Why are you pulling me so hard?” King complained, but secretly, he never wanted Ram to let go of him again. 

His arm was freed only when Ram had found them seats and King dropped down into one, realising for the first time that Ram probably lived on the same route as he did, which explained why he had dragged him to the bus stop in the first place, and now onto the bus. He wondered whether he should ask Ram to come home with him for a cup of coffee. But then he saw that Ram was holding on to the rail of the back of the seat in front of him, and somehow it felt to King like he wasn’t relaxed enough to agree to something like that. Maybe he did worry about his homework. Or maybe he worried about something entirely else that King had no idea about because he really didn’t know Ram at all, did he?

Well, that wouldn’t stop him from trying to get to know him. 

As Ram had rolled up his shirt sleeves all the way to his elbows, King caught sight of yet another tattoo. It was an intricate design of a wolf, framed by triangles and circles, and King realised that Ram really must love large dogs. It also meant that Ram could stand pain, considering the amount of tattoos he had. He swallowed hard. 

“Do you like tattoos?” he asked, knowing it was a silly question, because the answer was obvious, but at least it was something that was ultimately concerning Ram. When he looked at him and nodded, King felt elated once again. 

“I would like to have a tattoo, too,” he admitted. He liked the concept of carrying art on his body, or even a simple message, but he couldn’t get past his fear of needles. “Does it hurt?” he asked, despite knowing the answer already. 

“Do you want to get a tattoo?” 

King froze. Ram had spoken a full sentence to him. A question. An invitation for a conversation. He turned towards him, and, weirdly, Ram didn’t look at all like he was interested in his answer, but he had asked, so he would get an answer. After some teasing.

“Are you talking to me, cool boy?” he asked, unable to hide his delight. When Ram continued to look straight ahead, he decided to humour him. “Yes, I always wanted to have my name tattooed behind my ear,” he said, realising that his initial interest in Ram had stemmed from the fact that he had noticed his dreamcatcher tattoo in exactly the spot he had always imagined he would have his own tattoo. “But I’m afraid of needles. Remember when I told you about being traumatized by a dog bite? That’s why I don’t like anything sharp.”

He stopped, hoping that Ram would say something, anything, in return. When he didn’t, King couldn’t help himself but to ask him whether he wasn’t going to say anything at all, because he himself had been talking so much. Ram’s reaction was to turn away and look out of the window. 

King sighed. He should have been happy with the question Ram had asked. He had gone from a single word to a whole sentence within the span of a week. Slow progress, but progress nevertheless. 

When Ram put in his earbuds, King abandoned any hope of having more of a conversation, and when Ram opened the bus window and moved a little further away from him by resting his arm on the window’s frame, he wondered whether he had overstepped a boundary somehow. Well, if they were going to spend the bus ride in silence, he would listen to some music, too. 

He put in his own earbuds and started a song on his phone, but his phone had run out of battery. Slightly frustrated, he took out his earbuds again, and quietly mentioned to Ram that his phone had died. He did not think he had heard him. 

When Ram carefully placed his left ear bud into his ear, King was completely floored, realising once again that he had no idea what Ram really thought behind that stoic expression of his. He listened to fast paced rock music, a little too loudly and absolutely not what he would be listening to on a day like this. He thanked Ram, but then felt that maybe, if he changed the song to something softer, Ram would feel less … well, whatever it was that he had felt when they had gotten onto the bus. 

“What song is that?” he asked, taking out the earbud. “It’s too intense! Give me your phone!” He simply took it out of Ram’s hand, but Ram let go of it without any resistance, so King figured he was okay with it. Then he searched for his favourite song as he put the ear phone back in. It was a slow love song that he tended to listen to when he felt a bit lonely. The rainy day seemed perfect for it. When the first notes came on, he smiled, explaining how it fit the mood. Ram didn’t seem overly impressed, but he didn’t change the song when King handed him his phone back. 

With the music in one ear, he became aware of the chatter of a few girls behind them. He had already noticed that they had been excited about something, but now that he concentrated on their talk he could hear that they were talking about Ram and him, being certain that they were a couple. 

The thought that these girls saw them like this made him inexplicably happy. He had never allowed himself to even consider asking Ram out, but when he thought about it, he couldn’t really say why he hadn’t. He clearly found him attractive, but even beyond that, he liked him, even if he didn’t know him very well. He felt comfortable in his presence, even if he was always extremely conscious of how much he talked when Ram was entirely silent. But sharing ear buds was a relatively intimate gesture, wasn’t it? And standing under an umbrella together was, too. And pressing his arm against his chest – or was it a chest pressed against his arm – while helping with homework was definitely intimate. 

He smiled as he imagined Ram leaning in to him, whispering a few words that were meant only for his ears, a private smile on his face. 

“Hey Ning,” he leaned over to Ram, unable to stop himself from oversharing. “These girls over there think we are a couple! Did you hear that?” Ram looked at him, but with an unreadable expression. In a way, King was disappointed that Ram didn’t react in any other way, but at least he hadn’t scoffed at him. Neutrality meant that he wasn’t offended, didn’t it? Nevertheless, he felt a little embarrassed about telling him something that wasn’t so far removed from his own hopes and dreams, wondering what Ram thought of him now. 

Trying to distract both Ram and himself, he changed the topic completely and asked whether he could borrow Ram’s sunglasses. Ram’s eyes met his, but he did not respond otherwise. Fine, if this was how it was going to go, he would play it to his own advantage. “If you don’t answer,” he said, plucking the sunglasses from his shirt collar, “I take it as a yes.”

He couldn’t help but smile when Ram didn’t say anything, but continued to watch him. 

“I always wanted to try glasses like these. I want to know what I look like with them. Am I handsome?” he asked, not expecting an answer. When Ram looked away again, he felt a little embarrassed, but now that he wore the glasses, he wasn’t going to give them back without snapping a selfie.

“While we’re at it,” he grinned. “Lend me your phone for a selfie?”

Ram, unsurprisingly, didn’t react.

“The power on my phone is off!” King explained. “Please, lend me yours? Please? Please?”

To his surprise, Ram did hold out his phone to him. He seemed annoyed, but something told King that he wasn’t, really. Distracted seemed to be a better term. Well, maybe he could annoy him a little more and take his mind off whatever it was that he was thinking of right now. 

He began posing, trying to find a good angle for a photo. He took several pictures before his eyes caught the wolf tattoo on Ram’s arm again. “Lend me your arm, I want the tattoo in the photo!” he said, simply grabbing Ram’s arm and planting it on his shoulder so that he could show off the tattoo next to his face. Well, Ram would let him know if he was taking things too far, would he? He was slightly amazed when Ram simply let him do with his arm what he wanted. He was relaxed and allowed King to pose with it, even if it couldn’t have been all that comfortable. Once he found a good angle, Ram kept his arm where it was, and King's relaxed his hand around his wrist a little to signal him that he appreciated it.

When he had snapped a handful of photos, he scrolled through the camera roll and found the best one. It looked much cooler than he had ever felt in his life. He handed Ram his phone back, asking him to send him that photo. He knew he had found his next profile picture for facebook. Accidentally going to university instead of buying plants had turned out to be an absolutely wonderful mistake to make. 

Just as he began to reconsider asking Ram to come home with him, Ram stood up. Apparently, the next stop was his. King thanked him for accompanying him and, instead of an answer, Ram awkwardly held out the umbrella to him, not unlike he had held out that bottle of orange juice. The intention was clear, even if King had no idea why Ram wanted him to take the umbrella. The rain had long since passed. 

He watched Ram leave, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach. As Ram walked past the bus, King lifted his hand in greeting, but Ram simply walked on, barely looking at him. The elation he had felt earlier disappeared. Somehow, he had hoped for at least a good bye. 

His eyes fell on a light blue post-it that was stuck to the inside of the umbrella. He was sure it hadn’t been there when Ram had held it open earlier. _“You gave me your notes. I give you an umbrella. We’re even.”_

King stared at the note. Ram had taken him to dinner for helping him with his homework and now he had tried to save him from the rain because of the notes he had written up for him? Was that it? Did Ram feel he had to give something back each time King helped him? Did he fear being in his dept somehow? Once again, he wondered what layers of hurt were hidden underneath Ram’s calm exterior. Couldn’t he simply be nice to him without Ram trying to make up for it in his own way? Well, the next time he saw him, he would tell him that Ram didn’t need to pay him back. 

He would not mention that all he wanted in return for his help was to be able to look into his eyes for an extended period of time, and maybe to lean against his chest or touch his back again. He balled his hands into fists, trying to erase the memory of the strength he had felt in his arm as he had posed with it. The fact that Ram had simply allowed him to do as he pleased while he would have been strong enough to make it impossible for King to move his arm at all if he hadn’t wanted him to calmed him down a little. 

For the rest of the ride home he wondered whether Ram would have allowed him to put his arm around his shoulder to bring the tattoo to the other side of his face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bicycle ride to King's place, told from King's POV.
> 
> This chapter corresponds to chapter 3 of Killing me Softly.

King could feel that the atmosphere at their usual table was tense when he got to uni on Monday. Bohn looked truly upset, and as soon as King had sat down, Boss began teasing him about his profile picture. The picture Ram had sent him on Saturday evening. Somehow, he was touched that Ram had remembered to send it to him. He wondered what he was doing then, and what he usually did on weekends when he didn’t come to uni to hand in his homework. After he had asked Ram via text whether he could use it as his profile picture, adding that he would take no answer for a yes, he was growing increasingly happy when Ram did not respond – an unusual turn of events. 

But he should have known that his friends would tease him for it. It was clearly a man’s arm in that picture, and while he hadn’t been dating anyone since starting university, he had been fairly sure that they had assumed he was into girls. Their reactions told him that he had been wrong about that. 

“Has the mighty King gotten himself a husband? And I didn’t know a thing!” Boss quipped as he held up the photo for him to look at. As if he hadn’t done that a lot last night, remembering the pressure of Ram’s arm against his neck. 

“Who is that?” Mek asked and King was surprised when he found that he did not want his friends to know about Ram. Whatever was between them was too fragile, too precious to have his friends make fun of. He wasn’t even able to explain to himself what they were to each other, so how could he possibly explain it to them? 

“Definitely not my boyfriend,” King said, trying to keep a straight face. He knew nobody believed him, and he couldn’t really blame them. He pretended to be reading his study book, but he couldn’t concentrate on it. He was grateful when Boss began teasing Bohn instead, even though he did not seem to be in the mood for that at all. King wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know what had happened between him and Duen, because if it was bad, then Ram would get involved and, well, he wasn’t sure whose side he’d be on in that case. 

After class, he made his way down to the cafeteria for a snack and noticed that someone was following him. He hid behind a column and let the stranger walk past him before he confronted him. He was surprised to find that it was a high school student. And he was more surprised when Ram suddenly appeared behind him, calling him by his name. 

And then everything fell into place. The boy, Ruj, must have been Ram’s brother. He looked like a younger version of him, now that he looked for the similarities. While he was definitely more talkative than his big brother, he seemed to have his pronounced protective instinct. When Ram took him to a small seating area outside of the cafeteria, the boy clearly lied about why he was there, and while Ram grew increasingly irritated, King felt elated to learn a tiny bit more about who Ram was through the presence of his brother. 

So he did the only sensible thing. He took Ruj’s side and lied to Ram about how he had come across him and then sent him away to get his brother some water. Ram must have seen through the lie, he was fairly sure, but, as he had hoped, he went away anyway. 

“Why are you helping me?” Ruj asked, clearly surprised that King hadn’t told Ram that he had followed him. King explained to him that he assumed that he had seen his photo and wanted to know who the person was who had taken a picture with his brother’s arm, because he was worried for his brother. Ruj confirmed his assumption.

King wasn’t sure what else to say. Saying that there was nothing between them would have been a lie, but he couldn’t very well tell him that he was crushing on him, hard. What if Ruj was worried about Ram being with another man? What if Ram would get in trouble with his family? He exhaled.

“Don’t worry. I just think he has a very special personality. I’m just teasing him a little, nothing more!”

“But my brother can box!” Ruj burst out, as if he was actually worried for King. “You should be careful or he might punch you!”

King couldn’t help but smile at that. He hadn’t expected the “If you hurt him I’m going to hurt you back” talk from a fifteen year old, and especially not a version in which he was in no position to threaten him other than saying that Ram was perfectly capable of defending himself. But it was delightful to know that Ram had someone like Ruj to watch his back and to worry about him. Getting to know Ruj helped him become a little less worried about Ram’s possible loneliness. 

“Anyway,” King chuckled. “I’m glad I got to know you. I’ve gotta go to class now. See you!” He walked away before Ram came back. He was sure Ruj would be able to talk himself out of getting in trouble with his brother. 

After his classes were finished, King was about to go to the bus stop when he saw the ice cream man push his little trolley towards the main building. While he called out to him, he didn’t seem to hear him, so he chased after him, wondering how he could be so fast. When he stopped for a customer, King wanted to berate him for not stopping for him. The words died on his lips when he realised it was Ram. 

“Hey Ning,” he greeted him, but then he wasn’t sure what else to say. Ram got his ice cream and the man asked him what King wanted. Standing next to Ram unexpectedly meant that he forgot for a moment where he was and what he had wanted, so he ordered the first thing that came to his mind, an ice lolly. Even as he said it, he realised how utterly stupid it was, because the man only sold scoops of ice cream. 

And Ram laughed at him. Well, he didn’t laugh out loud, nor did his lips move, really, but his eyes definitely did. And while it was definitely an embarrassing situation, it meant that Ram was amused by him and that he had been unable to hide it from him. 

“Are you laughing at me?” he demanded, but the ice cream vendor began explaining to him how silly he was for ordering an ice lolly when he clearly didn’t have any and Ram walked away, leaving him with burning cheeks and the decision to never, ever try to buy ice cream from that vendor again.

He ran after Ram, who had made his way back to the familiar table in front of the faculty. He called out to him but before he had reached him, the hateful dog suddenly appeared out of nowhere and began barking loudly at King. 

He was on the table before he could stop himself while Ram was calmly putting down dog food on a paper plate and leaving the rest of his ice cream for the dog, too. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem interested in the tiny plate of food, but rather in taking a piece out of King’s leg. 

“Your food is there!” he shouted at the dog. “Ai’Ning, help me!”

He knew he was being irrational, and maybe he wasn’t quite as afraid of the dog anymore as he had been, before he had seen how easily and kindly Ram dealt with it, but it still made his heart stutter with fear. “Ning, if you help me, I will help you with all of your homework!” He felt a little silly for offering something he would do anyway, and gladly, but, well, why not try to hit two birds with a single stone, right? Ram straightened a little. 

“And I will give you the old exam papers, too!” This time, Ram turned around to look at him, but he didn’t do anything else and King began to wonder if he could outrun the dog. “And all of my notes from my first year classes! Ning, help me!” He was certain that the dog would be faster. He was going to be bitten again, wasn’t he?

He had just given up hope of rescue when Ram calmly approached the dog, took it by its collar and led it to the food, where it stayed as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

King sat down on the table, his heart in his throat. “I thought I was going to have a heart attack,” he said relieved. “Thank you for your help.”

Even before he had finished speaking, Ram held out his hand. “The lecture notes,” he demanded. 

King frowned. “What’s the rush? They are at home and I will bring them tomorrow.”

Ram shook his head and kept his hand stretched out. 

“Do you need them now?” he asked, but then he thought of the trouble Ram had been having and how his offer must have seemed like a fairly good deal to him, all things considered. “Exams are coming up, hmm?” he asked. “I’ll find a taxi and get them for you!”

But Ram seemed to have a different idea. He grabbed his arm and pulled him off the table and towards a bicycle that stood just a few feet away. Understanding dawned on King. “You want to ride with me to my place to get the notes?”

Ram cocked his head, almost as if he was challenging him. Well then, it was a lovely day and after he had been running after the ice cream man, and then after Ram, jumped on the table and given his heart a proper workout in panic, why not cycle four miles with the man of his dreams behind him. He might just die of a heart attack after all. 

He almost laughed at his own thoughts. When had he started thinking of Ram that way? 

Once they took off, it went surprisingly okay. King talked about the weather and the fact that his car was broken and about the water lilies in the lake next to the university, all the while Ram sat silently behind him. But he wasn’t holding on properly, and several times, King wondered if he could improve the balance if Ram held on to him instead of the metal bolt under the bicycle seat. 

It took him a few minutes to get up his courage, but he finally reached behind him and plucked first Ram’s right and then afterwards Ram’s left hand from the bike and placed them on his waist. He realised he wasn’t talking anymore, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say that wasn’t asking Ram to go out with him, so he kept his mouth shut. 

Instead, he tried to hold on to the feeling of being held like this by Ram. He was certain that this would be the only chance he ever got to feel his hands on his body like this, so he was adamant that he would memorize every second of this. 

But then the chain jumped and they almost crashed and he barely managed to stop the bike without falling over. Ram seemed unfazed and began fixing the bike when King became aware of a group of school girls standing a few yards away. It took him a moment to remember that it was the same group of girls who had been on the bus with them on Saturday. “Hey Ning, the girls who teased us on the bus are following us,” he said quietly and Ram looked at them and then up at him. He had fixed the chain and rose again, his expression unreadable. King couldn’t help but smile. He could hear the girls fawning over them again and when Ram didn’t look away, he decided to test the waters, just a little bit. “If we really became a couple, I think they would die of happiness,” he teased, and then put his arm around Ram’s shoulder, pulling him a little closer. 

And Ram let him. He hadn’t expected him to just stand there and let King hug him. He was so surprised that he let go of him again a moment later and got ready to continue the ride. He felt a little dizzy after the intermission, but when Ram put his hands on his waist again after a couple of minutes, steadying the bike, he felt like he could go on forever like this. He began chatting again, telling Ram a little about his plants and how he had decorated his balcony to become a little oasis in which he sometimes spent the nights when it was too hot inside. 

They finally reached his street and just as he pointed out that they had arrived, he could feel Ram’s thumbs stroke his back. He was so surprised that he stopped talking, but then he realised that Ram must have noticed him stopping and he wondered whether he was reading too much into it. It could have just been him acknowledging that they had arrived, or him thanking him for riding his bike all the way. He might have done it to a friend without thinking twice about it. 

Well then, even if he really wanted to believe that it had been more than that, he now had confirmation that Ram was more than just an acquaintance.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A certain boxing match takes place and King realises he is done for. 
> 
> (also, please check out the utterly hilarious fanmeet version of the match!: https://daysofstorm.tumblr.com/post/625965838208466944/bounbl-bohn-and-rams-duel-for-duen-crackhead)

Oh no. 

King stared at Phu. “Why?”

“I tried to make them see that we shouldn’t make it too difficult for Bohn. I mean, he could get back at us, but Ram … none of us could convince him to let it go.”

Phu had found King to warn him of what was to come. Somehow, Duen’s friends had decided that Bohn needed to pass some tests before they would allow him to date Duen. All of the tests had been very simple, but then Ram had challenged him to a fight. And King clearly remembered Ruj’s warning. 

King thought of the scar under his eyebrow and the hidden strength under his unassuming shirts. Bohn was in trouble. 

“You should tell him that Ram is actually good at boxing. At school, he trained almost every day and he even became a member of the junior national team, but he kept punching out his own team members and they let him go again. He was suspended from uni after the first couple of weeks because he got into a fight. He’s not … joking.”

King knew he should feel disappointed in Ram, but somehow, thinking back on how gentle he was with the janitor’s dog and how protective he had been of Duen, he couldn’t imagine that Ram had hit anyone out of malice or a lust for violence. And now he was defending Duen’s honour, and that sounded almost stupidly romantic. 

“Bohn knows how to fight, too. Not professionally, but he’s been in fights and he’s not afraid.”

Phu chuckled, drily. “Of course he’s not afraid. That’s exactly the problem. What happens if Ram knocks him out and he’s embarrassed in front of everyone? He’s going to make our lives hell.”

“He’ll do no such thing,” King decided. He wouldn’t allow Bohn to bully Duen’s friends. It was one thing to date someone, and an entirely different thing to get between your love interest and their friends. And Duen wouldn’t let him, either. 

“I just wanted to make sure that you know,” Phu stood up. “The fight it going to be tomorrow.”

King didn’t sleep well that night. He had texted Bohn to be careful, but Bohn hadn’t responded yet, so he guessed he’d tell him in the morning. Classes were tense, especially since Bohn skipped a couple of them and refused to talk to anyone. When they finally got together on one of the basketball courts that went largely unused, he realised that he wasn’t only nervous for Bohn. 

He couldn’t stand the thought that Ram might get hurt. 

When Ram showed up, dressed like a professional boxer, King blatantly stared at him. Once he had closed his mouth again and managed to drag his eyes away, he remembered Phu’s warning. 

He knew that he wasn’t doing Bohn any favour by telling him about Ram’s boxing career, but right then, he would have preferred it if Bohn had just thrown in the towel, declared defeat and asked for a different challenge. Yet, he knew that Ram wouldn’t let him. He seemed deadly serious and his eyes hadn’t left Bohn once. 

When his friends began betting on Ram, King couldn’t help but feel proud by proxy, even though he knew it was silly. When Thara, who stood by as judge and, if necessary, first aid, also placed his bet on Ram, he had to laugh. 

He wasn’t entirely surprised when Frong placed money on Bohn. King felt a little sorry for him, knowing that Duen had absolutely no romantic inclination towards him, but he admired his willingness to hold on to hope. Betting on Bohn would embarrass Bohn, but possibly please Duen - but Duen wasn’t even present. King wondered why that was.

When Thara recapped the rules, Ram took off the silk robe he had been wearing and King’s mouth went dry. He had caught glimpses of his chest under the robe, but he hadn’t quite realised that Ram would be wearing nothing but his shorts. 

Fucking hell.

For the first time, he could see all of his tattoos, and just the memory of touching and leaning against him and, god, having him drag him around with such obvious strength made the skin on his neck prickle. The way he had caught him when he had almost fallen during the final night of the preparations. The way his arm had rested against his chest as he explained an exercise to him. The way the muscles in his back had shifted when he had gotten up that day after Duen and Bohn had joined them at the table. None of it had prepared him for seeing him almost naked. 

He swallowed hard and looked around, wondering why nobody else was staring at Ram. But most of them were either looking worriedly at Bohn or were busy talking about bets. King tried to look at his face, but that didn’t make it any better. For the first time since he had met him, Ram was openly showing emotion. He was angry, but he was also enjoying this, that much was obvious.

When the fight began, King immediately felt sorry for Bohn. Ram hit him several times and blocked Bohn’s attempts with ease, but every now and then Bohn managed to land a hit, too. But the half smile on Ram’s face only grew wider. Maybe fighting was one of the few outlets he had for his pent up emotions. If he didn’t talk about them, he needed a way to work through things. And while feeding dogs and annoying King by not speaking to him might have worked for some, it clearly wasn’t sufficient for Ram. 

But, by god, he was sexy. 

King’s musings were interrupted when Bohn landed a hit on Ram’s face and a moment later squarely on his stomach. But again, the smirk was still there. King tried to exhale his worry, but it was clear that things would only get more intense. 

“I think it’s decision time,” he announced to Tee, who had simply looked on with a baffled expression on his face. Bohn wasn’t winning this fight, but he wasn’t exactly embarrassing himself either. 

King could see it happen before it did. Two fists hit two faces at exactly the same time and both Bohn and Ram stumbled and fell. And then Duen suddenly turned up, close to tears, shouting at them for being idiots. He even pushed Bohn hard enough for him to fall back down even though he had just started getting up again. 

Ram stood up and looked down on Bohn, sweat glistening on his chest. “If you hurt my friend, I will kill you.”

King swallowed. It didn’t sound like an empty threat and he could see that Bohn realised that, too. Nevertheless, he told Ram that he wasn't worried, because that day would never come. King knew Bohn truly believed that he wouldn’t hurt Duen, but he also knew that Bohn was hot headed and very jealous and that Duen would have to be very patient with him if things were to work out between them, but at least Ram seemed to see that Bohn meant what he said. He nodded and walked back to his friends and King could just stop himself from following him. 

With his back turned, he saw yet another tattoo, right between his shoulder blades, and he knew he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. 

“Hey, King, come help us!” Tee pulled at his arm and King turned around to see Bohn looking a little rougher than King had thought he would. Ram’s hits had been well placed and he’d carry the bruises around for a while. He wasn’t sure why Tee looked at him strangely, as if he expected him to say something, so he just ignored his friend and walked over to help Duen pull up Bohn. 

Once he had made sure that Duen had forgiven Bohn for agreeing to the challenge, he quickly went to get his things. Duen was leaving with his friends and after punching Ram to tell him off for not thinking straight, he thanked him and asked whether he would get home alright. King kept back until they had left. There was no way he would allow Ram to go home alone. He had been hit, too, even if his face didn’t show a scratch. There would be some bruising on his chest and stomach.

Just as he walked up to him, Ram dropped the keys to his bicycle lock and pressed his hand to his side as he tried to pick them up. King was faster. “I will take you home,” he decided, guessing that, as usual, Ram wouldn’t say anything in return.

Ram tried to grab the keys from him, but even reaching out seemed to cause him quite a lot of pain. King wondered whether he had been hurt more than he had initially realised and whether adrenaline had simply kept him upright, until now, when his friends had left and he could let down his guard. 

For a moment, King stopped and just stared at him. Ram had not shown any indication of being hurt around his friends, but now he did. With him. 

It was then that he remembered his apology gift that he had brought Ram. After Ram had been to his condo to pick up the notes he had promised in return for being once again rescued from the dog, Ram had looked at his posters of the Venus flytraps that he kept on his walls. He had gone to the flower shop off campus where First had told him about the difficulties of growing the plants from seeds. But King hadn’t even considered buying the plants First had on display. 

If he could be patient about Ram slowly opening up to him, he could be patient with his present for Ram. 

“Here. It’s an apology for lying to my sister about your high pitched voice,” he held up the paper bag which held two small flower pots. 

Ram didn’t seem particularly impressed – until he took one out and showed him the tiny leaves that had sprouted and he explained to him how difficult it had been to get them that far. “I remembered that you were interested in them, so I got them for you. And maybe, when you take care of them, you’ll think of me, too.”

He wasn’t sure why he said that. He definitely hadn’t meant to, but Ram had looked at him with his soft brown eyes and a much more open expression than he had carried a moment ago and it just slipped out. 

Ram took the small pot from him, looking down on it before a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. King’s heart stuttered. 

“I like it. Thank you.” 

“What?” King took a step back in delight and shock. It made Ram look up at him and he was sure he had never looked at him with such a kind expression. “You’ve never talked to me that much before!” he gasped, unable to stop smiling. “Here, I got two for you,” he held out the bag again, delighted by the turn of events. 

He unlocked the bike and Ram carefully replaced the pot in the bag before hanging it onto the handlebars. He took the bike from him, still looking at him with that expression that made his heart beat faster, and began walking. King couldn’t quite stop smiling and didn’t mind not speaking for once – he wasn’t sure what he would have said if he had tried. 

But then an idea sprang to his mind and in his excitement he couldn’t stop himself. “Hey Ning, tomorrow I will buy ten more Venus flytraps, because it will mean that you will talk to me more.”

To his surprise, Ram answered him. “I do talk, normally.”

“Well, I know. But you don’t talk a lot when you are with me,” King complained. “Try again, say a long sentence!”

“Long sentence,” Ram said, his eyebrow raised. Oh no. He wasn’t going to go there, was he?

“Not like this! Say, like, a word!”

“A word.”

He could see Ram’s eyes gleam, though his face was stoic again. 

“Are you trying to annoy me?”

“Are you trying to annoy me?” Ram echoed. 

Well, if Ram was playing, then so would he. 

“Come on!”

“Come on.”

“I like P’King!”

Ram inhaled, clearly ready to do this until King would give up. “I like …” And then he stopped, the words dying on his lips, which he pressed together as if he had only now realised what King had said. 

King grinned when Ram looked away. “Why didn’t you finish the sentence?” he teased. “Or do you actually like me, hmm?” Once again, he wasn’t sure how his brain hadn’t stopped him from saying those words out loud, but there they were, out in the open. He stared at Ram, trying to read his thoughts. When Ram looked at him again, King couldn’t stop himself. “I like P’King,” he repeated. “P’King is cute!”

Ram started walking again, but King wouldn’t give up so easily. “King is the nicest person in the world! Ai’Ning, come back here and talk to me!” He laughed as he jogged after him and when Ram glanced at him, he could see that he was smiling after all. 

When King got home that night, he felt a little bit like _he_ had won the boxing match. He dropped down onto his bed, texting Ram that he hoped he wouldn’t be in too much pain. Then he curled up and hugged his knees to his chest tightly, biting his own knee through his trousers, just to get rid of the nervous energy that flooded him. He could still vividly picture Ram’s body during the match, but somehow the fact that Ram had smiled at him and they had had an actual conversation, seemed much more important.

He closed his eyes tightly. He had fallen head over heels in love and he couldn’t tell anyone but his plants about it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This corresponds to chapter 4 of Killing me Softly, and therefore not to anything we see on the show. If Ram only knew what he did to King that evening ...

A couple of days later, he saw Ram sit at his usual table, slouched over it, as if he was either sleeping or unable to work any longer. The sight of it worried King, because nobody else was there and Ram looked vulnerable like this, even if King knew – now more than ever – that he was anything but. 

“Ai’Ning. Don’t sleep out here. The dog will eat you.” He approached the table and couldn’t help but rub his back a little, thinking that he’d appreciate the gesture if he was the one sitting exhausted at the table, his homework underneath his arms. Ram didn’t react, but he could feel him inhale deeply and King took his hand back as a precaution.

“Hey, come on. Are you alright?” He sat down next to him and took hold of the edge of a sheet and pulled. This time, Ram did not hold on to them, but he also didn’t lift his arms, so he had to carefully extract the papers from underneath him. When Ram looked at him, King couldn’t hold back his smile. Ram looked tired, and soft and after a moment, his lips curled into what looked like a smile. He hid his face again before King could be entirely sure about it, though. 

“I know you’re smiling,” King said and elbowed him. “Come on, I’ll explain.” He was surprised when Ram moved and propped up his head on his arms, looking up at him and the papers in turn. King fought the urge to run his hand through Ram’s hair and pet him a little. Instead, he pushed his own hair back and concentrated on the exercise. 

Ram looked at him more than he did at the sheets, which was already a little disconcerting, but King decided to ignore that in favour of making sure that Ram would understand how he could solve the problem he had been given. It was definitely harder than their usual homework and King could understand that Ram struggled, despite having most of his notes from his first term by now. 

“Now, what do have to put in here?” he pointed at an empty line with his pencil. "You have two options ..."

“I’m sorry,” Ram said, and King immediately stopped talking. “I’m very tired.”

“Are you alright?” King had been so preoccupied with Ram’s eyes on him that he hadn’t quite realised how exhausted Ram really was. He pressed his wrist to Ram’s forehead and then his cheeks, unable to tell in the weak light whether his face was flushed or not. He definitely looked a little feverish. “You’re hot,” he finally stated, and Ram’s face suddenly lit up with a grin and he actually snorted. While King had not been prepared for how beautiful he looked in those two seconds, he couldn’t quite ignore the fact that Ram was behaving completely out of character. 

“Okay, something is definitely up. Do you want me to take you home?”

Ram’s eyes widened a little and King imagined himself putting Ram to bed, cooling his neck and forehead with a wet towel and staying with him to make sure he would be alright. 

“I’m fine,” Ram said, moving back, and King pulled his hand away. 

“Let me at least get you to a taxi?”

Ram shook his head. 

King grew truly worried. “Don’t take your bike if you don’t feel well,” he begged, even as Ram still shook his head and began packing up his notes. But then he pulled out his phone and began typing and King pulled out his own, hoping he wasn’t repeating the same mistake he had at the first evening of the volunteer activity when he had thought Ram would call him and then hadn’t. He was relieved when his phone pinged.

_“Thank you for trying to explain this to me.”_

King nodded. “Do you want me to explain it to you again tomorrow?”

Ram nodded his answer. 

Okay, at least there was that. “Absolutely. After classes? Right here?”

He wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but he was almost sure that Ram smiled at him again. 

“Okay,” he affirmed his offer, wondering why Ram was still sitting there, looking at him. He wasn’t sure what to do other than look at him, trying to read in his face what was going on. And then, after a while, he stopped thinking about that and just looked at him, memorising the sharp edge of his cheekbone as the orange street light hit his face from behind. His soft lips that still carried the memory of a smile. His eyes, dark in the weak light, but wide open, looking back at him. 

He needed to look away. He had to. He was risking everything right there and then by not being able to drag his eyes away and he knew Ram watched people, calmly, and it could be disconcerting, but it was what he did. But King didn’t. King said things to people he looked at. And he hadn’t said anything in a very long time now. 

A noise from the bushes that surrounded them saved him. His heart had been beating very hard already, and the noise startled him more than it usually would have. He imagined the dog charging at him and he clasped the edge of the table, trying to see where the noise had come from. 

When his eyes met Ram’s again, he had his hands pressed to his face and King calmed down a little. While he was freaking out about a weird sound that might just as well have come from a bird, Ram wasn’t feeling well and he needed to get home safely. Just when he wanted to reiterate his offer to call him a cab, Ram took his backpack and walked away. 

“Are you going to leave me here alone, with wild animals that might want to eat me?” King called after him, only half joking. Even a sick Ram would save him from a dog. 

He got up and followed Ram from a safe distance. He told himself it was to make sure that he could call out to him in case he was attacked by an animal after all, but as he watched Ram unlock his bike and get on, ruffling his hair and then riding down the road, he knew he had needed to make sure that he at least got away safely. 

On the bus home, he began texting Ram. 

_“I’m texting you just in case something happens.”_

He felt silly for the text, and decided to clarify.

_“I’m on a bus now. No animal bit me. No thanks to you.”_

He knew Ram was still on his way home and hopefully wouldn’t check his messages while he was on the bike, but he felt like talking to him, so he continued writing.

_“What was that noise, though? I have never heard it on campus. Maybe a new species? Will they name it after me?”_

He leaned back in the seat and stared out of the window. Knowing that Ram was not well left a knot in his stomach that he didn’t quite understand. 

_“I hope you’re okay. Don’t get sick. Because if you are sick, then I caught it today, too, hahaha.”_

He didn’t feel like laughing at all, but he couldn’t get all mopey at Ram now, could he? Not when Ram was the one who was sick. King was just heart sick, and that was very different, wasn’t it? Looking into Ram’s eyes for so long had only made it worse, but there had been no way he could have resisted to do it while he could. He had no defences against him, he realised. Ram had slipped into his heart and made a nest and now he just lived there and every time King saw him, he took up more room. 

_“Please let me know when you get home.”_

He got off the bus, calculating that Ram should have reached his home by now, too, even if he had driven more slowly than he had when he had left campus. 

After he had had dinner and watered his plants, he texted again. Ram hadn’t checked his messages yet and he was beginning to get really worried. 

_“I’m worried. Please write something.”_

He forced himself to wait for another ten minutes before he texted again. He knew that Ram would probably get the texts eventually and he would seem a little hysterical, but he couldn’t stay silent. 

_“Ram! I’m not joking. You were feverish and you took your bike home.”_

Should he call him? Would Ram answer the phone if he did? Probably not. 

_“Ram. Ram. Ram. Ram. Ram.”_

Well, he would just continue to text him every twenty minutes until Ram finally picked up his phone and checked his messages. He usually had his phone in his hand a second after he had received a message. Why wasn’t he checking them now?

_“Fine. I will assume you crashed and now you are alone in a hospital bed and I won’t sleep all night because I’m worried._

He took a shower and picked up his phone immediately afterwards, feeling the knot in his stomach tightening. 

_“Okay, so maybe I’m overreacting and you just got home alright and are now sleeping.”_

He tried to make himself believe that it was true. Ram had still been walking straight and he had seemed in control as he had ridden away. He must have come home and passed out right away. 

_“As you should, sick boy.”_

He walked out onto his balcony, feeling the evening breeze in his hair. Ram would be alright. He had to be.

_“I hope you read this and feel bad tomorrow.”_

Was that too harsh? 

_“Not tonight, though. Don’t feel bad tonight. Feel better.”_

He knew that if he didn’t stop texting now, he would write something inappropriate and silly and he’d be embarrassed about it in the morning, so he decided to write only a single final text.

_“Good night.”_

He felt like an idiot for being wide awake and worried while Ram was probably in his bed, getting his much needed sleep. He went back inside and threw himself onto the bed, closing his eyes and trying to think of something pleasant. Like Ram’s smile. Or the tattoo that had disappeared beyond the waist line of his boxer shorts. 

Frustrated with his own mind, King sat up again and stared at the opposite wall. Then he picked up his phone again, ready to write to Duen to ask if he might call Ram’s parents to ask if he had gotten home alright. Just then, the messages he had sent changed from unread to read.

King was so relieved that he dropped the phone onto his bed and said a prayer of thanks. A message plopped up and he felt the knot in his stomach dissolve.

_“Sorry. Was busy and just saw your messages. I’m fine.”_

Busy? King stared at the message. You were busy while I died with worry?! He forced himself to take a few slow breaths before he picked up the phone again and began typing.

 _“I’m glad you are okay.”_ He wanted to write a whole lot of other things, but, first and foremost, he wanted Ram to know that he was relieved. 

Almost immediately, how phone showed him the three dots that indicated that Ram was typing. He waited with bated breath for the message to arrive. 

_“Good night, King.”_

King switched off the light and held his phone close to his face, looking at his two messages. He was fine. He hadn’t fallen off his bike and he hadn’t ended up in a hospital somewhere, or worse. He had gotten home and, well, family must have happened. Something important, in any case. Who was King to expect that Ram would reply immediately to his texts. He had told him several times that he was fine, hadn’t he? Even when he clearly hadn’t been, but he had not once made the impression that he wasn’t entirely sure he would get home by himself. 

King forced his shoulders to relax and he finally put the phone away. Ram was fine. He was about to go to sleep. And he would see him in the morning to explain the exercise all over again and he wouldn’t mind one bit. 

He fell asleep with a smile on his face, because now that he knew Ram was fine, he allowed himself to go back to the thought of the tattoo he had had earlier.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pencil-bewitching scene, which makes me laugh every single time and I CANNOT get over the fact that they turned that around during the Fan Meet to have Ram blow his magic all over King (pun intended, I'm pretty sure). 
> 
> I skipped so many events in the Ram POV version, being impatient to write after setting my mind to it initially. Rewatching the series for this again and there's still so many scenes that I need to write for Ram. I'll add them during the next few days, depending on how much time I find to write, too, before catching up with King's POV when his sister brings around the kids. 
> 
> Edit: This chapter corresponds to the new chapter 5 of Killing me Softly.
> 
> Also, because Luxchan71ce commented, saying "Talking to plants is good. Talking to Ram is better 🤣" I might have drawn my immediate reaction to that - the plants telling that to King. You can find my late night drawing at the end of the chapter.

A cup of iced coffee was placed in front of him without a comment.

King looked up and found Ram looking back at him, his lips pressed together as if he was trying not to speak. King wished he would just say what he wanted to say. He missed hearing his gentle voice.

“How are you feeling?” he asked when Ram’s expression didn’t change. “Is this your way of saying thank you?” he picked up the coffee and took a sip. How Ram knew that he took his coffee black was beyond him. “You’re welcome,” he grinned and then patted the seat next to him.

Somewhat reluctantly, Ram sat down. And then he didn’t move.

“I’ll need your exercise sheets,” King cocked his head, wondering if Ram was still under the weather. He nodded, seemingly embarrassed, and began digging in his backpack.

“Okay, promise you tell me as soon as you don’t follow anymore? Because if you don’t say anything, I’m not going to know when you lose track, okay?”

“Okay,” Ram said, looking down onto the sheets of paper between them.

King smiled at him, giving his wrist a short squeeze, and then started from the beginning. Ram had filled in some of the formulas he had not yet put down last night, so at least he had tried. Good. After every line, he looked up to check whether Ram had understood, and each time, he waited until he nodded before he moved on.

It seemed to work well, because when Ram hadn’t understood, he pursed his lips and shook his head once, so King could keep track of his progress. He also started to be slightly disappointed when Ram finally understood the underlying question and began filling in the slots on his own. He had stopped pouting. King selfishly hoped there’d be more difficult homework in the future.

He finished his coffee as Ram finished the exercise. Once he was done, Ram pulled out his phone and wrote for a moment.

King waited until his phone pinged, not wanting to assume anything again.

_“Thank you. I have a test tomorrow. Now I feel more prepared than I thought I was.”_

King smiled and squeezed his arm. “Good.”

Ram smiled back briefly, before he pushed the sheets back into his backpack, zipped it up and walked away.

King watched him until he had disappeared.

The next day he left his own class early to make sure to catch Ram before his exam. Phu had told him how nervous they all were and how mean it was of the teacher to have them write a test just a week before midterms.

He found Ram digging through his backpack, his shoulders tense. “Ai’Ning. Why are you not going to your test?” he asked, feeling, for the first time since meeting him, that it was his duty to make sure he’d go to his test, being Ram’s senior and, well, also his tutor now, because Tee hadn’t done a single thing to help Ram, as far as he could tell.

Ram seemed a little overwhelmed, but then he pulled out his phone and began texting. Again, King waited for the ping.

_“I lost my pencil.”_

Wait, that couldn’t possibly be the reason why he risked being late to the test. “Why don’t you borrow one from a friend then?” he suggested. “You’re going to be late!”

Ram sighed, and then he licked his lips. King tried hard not to let that distract him, but he failed. He was glad that Ram was texting again and didn’t see his face just then.

_“It’s not the same.”_

King moved closer, leaning on the table. “Why, because your pencil is pink and cute?” he teased. But Ram didn’t roll his eyes, nor did he smile. He just picked up his phone again and even as he typed, King began to understand that whatever problem Ram had with his missing pencil, it was serious to him. He decided not to mock him anymore.

_“My name was on that pencil. My mum wrote it for me.”_

So Ram was attached to his mother. And he had a lovely, inquisitive little brother. Once again, he realised that he knew very little about Ram. But what he knew was that the boy who fought for the honour of his friend was scared to go to his exam because he didn’t have his lucky pencil.

King dug in his pocked for his own pencil and then turned around and quickly sliced off some of the paint at the end with his pocket knife and wrote _“Ning”_ onto the wood. Then he turned around again and held the pencil out to Ram. “Here, use mine.”

For an endless few seconds, Ram stared at it, and then he raised his eyes to King, and King felt his heart take up speed. Nevertheless, Ram didn’t take the pencil, but picked up his phone once again.

_“The one my mum gave me always brings me luck.”_

Either Ram was just incredibly adorable and never actually showed that side to anyone, or he was trying to rile him up. Yet, somehow, King couldn’t quite believe that Ram would tease him about something that seemed so important to him.

“Oh, okay, I forgot!” King took the pencil between his hands as he would an incense stick during prayer. “Here you go, all done.” Then he closed his eyes, knowing he was being utterly ridiculous, but if he could take Ram’s mind off being scared of the test, then maybe this would help.

“This is my spell. Take it!” Then he inhaled sharply and blew on the pencil as hard as he could, pretending to call down the ancestors to bring luck to the pencil.

When he opened his eyes and held out the pen to Ram, he was almost sure that he was either very confused or very close to laughter. But, as always, he couldn’t actually tell. Refusing to feel embarrassed, he held the pencil closer to Ram. “I used this spell to get all As in all of my subjects,” he lied. “Now take it, quickly!”

Ram took the pen before King could poke him with it, but he frowned when he did.

“Now go, quick!” King raised his voice a little, wondering if Ram was fleeing from him or whether he had realised how late he really was.

Not having a class himself, King sat down in a quiet corner and opened facebook on his phone. He had told himself he wouldn’t pry, but after learning about Ram’s love for his mother, he wanted to see if he had a picture of her on the app. He scrolled for a while, finding a lot of pictures of three gigantic dogs, of buildings, of sunsets, or boxing gear and fitness equipment and, every now and then, a photo of him. He barely had any pictures up that he had posted, so most of them were tagged images. While they were taken by different people, they all had one thing in common. They were all liked by the same girl called Pin Pin.

King felt his heart sink. He wasn’t even sure why, but he had always assumed that Ram was single. Thinking about it now, he wondered why he had. He knew Ram was kind and good looking and loyal, so why wouldn’t he be in a relationship. Oh god, he had been a fool to hope that there might be something more to Ram’s stares.

He decided to just suck it up and continue to look for what he had set out to find. After scrolling through almost a year’s worth of entries, he finally found a family picture. He zoomed in on it, smiling at Ruj’s whimsical grin and Ram’s typical stoic expression. So he looked like that around his family, too. His mother was beautiful, with long, flowing hair, and she was leaning against an attractive looking man whose hair was just turning silver, but who looked quite young still. A perfect family picture if he had ever seen one. Ram sighed. And everyone looked happy, so Ram’s anger at the boxing match had really only come from him not wanting Bohn to hurt Duen.

He was surpised when, after 90 minutes, his phone pinged.

_“Meet me at the grill in half an hour.”_

So, first coffee and now dinner? King forgot his worries about Ram’s reaction to his pencil-magic and texted his friends who had wanted to go for food. _“I have a thing I forgot about. See you later.”_

He still didn’t feel like telling them about Ram. He had always imagined that he would consult his friends on affairs of the heart, but considering how moody Bohn had been recently, especially after Duen had reacted to the boxing match by becoming a little defiant of Bohn’s wishes, and how Mek kept looking at Boss as if his heart was breaking every time he smiled or touched him, he realised that he couldn’t really expect any help from them. He also feared that one of them would blatantly tell Ram about it and he would die of embarrassment and never be able to look him in the eye again, and that he simply couldn’t risk, especially now that he had learned about his potential girlfriend.

He made his way to the grill, excitement blooming in his heart alongside with sudden sadness. He’d get another quiet hour with Ram and maybe he’d speak to him again. And even if he didn’t, he’d get to look at his beautiful face and try to make him smile. Getting him to smile was almost harder than getting him to talk.

Ram was already sitting at the same table they had sat at the last time, reading the menu. When King sat down, he looked up, relief clearly written on his face. King wondered if the waitress had tried to chat him up again. When she appeared to take their orders, she glared at King as if he was the only thing standing between her and happiness. He handed over their order without a word and once again, Ram did not even look at her.

“This meal is to thank me, right?” he asked once the food had arrived.

Ram reached into his bag and produced his pencil, holding it out to him. King was elated. So he had used it and, apparently, he felt good about the exam.

“I am right! How was your exam then?”

Ram didn’t answer, but he nodded and then the smile was back. The smile that radiated from his eyes and which made his face look soft even though his expression hadn’t really lost its neutrality. He knew he was being silly, but the fact that Ram looked at him _like that_ meant the world to him.

“Keep it. It can be your lucky pencil. You lost yours, right?”

Ram fiddled with the pen a little before putting it back into his bag. The smile remained.

Yet, King knew he couldn’t enjoy the meal without asking Ram about that girl. He knew he could ask about his family, since Ram had brought up his mother. Maybe he wouldn’t notice what King was really asking and he would have clarity and be able to deal with a certainty rather than a fear.

He held up his phone with the family picture. “This is your family, right?”

Ram’s loving look at the image was all the confirmation he needed, though he already knew the answer.

“Let me guess. This must be your father and this your brother.” Well, he had met Ruj, so he wasn’t really guessing, but he didn’t know what else to say right then. Ram’s glance at him told him he knew King was up to something.

He continued before letting himself get distracted. “And this foreign lady must be your mother.” He grinned when Ram gave him another look that told him how unimpressed he was. “I’m that good,” King said proudly, making it all worse. Well, it was now or never.

He clicked onto the profile of the girl who had also liked the family photo. He held it up to Ram. “Who is that?” he asked, hoping the dread in his voice wasn’t too audible. “Your girlfriend?”

To his immeasurable relief, Ram immediately shook his head as if the mere suggestion was utter nonsense before looking down onto his bowl again and spooning a mouthful of rice into his mouth.

“If she’s not your girlfriend, what are you so shy about?” King knew he had asked this only because he was still busy comprehending that Ram had immediately shaken his head, but then he realized that he would react in the same way if someone would have asked him directly about Ram and his heart sank.

Calmly, Ram picked up his phone and began texting. _“She’s my neighbour.”_

He knew he should let it rest, because Ram picked up his spoon again as if he felt his answer had sufficed as an explanation. But he needed to know more. “Neighbour? But she liked every photo you posted. Sure, she’s your neighbour, girlfriend? She’s your girlfriend, right?”

But Ram neither looked at him nor did he text him again. Instead, he began eating his soup and King regretted ever asking. Should he believe Ram’s initial reaction or was there more? Was he shy sharing more about his private life with him, because King was obviously prying now? Had he screwed up his chance to get to know him better because he had clearly taken a chunk out of his day to look through old photos. He realised that he must have made Ram feel uncomfortable, all for the sake of finding comfort himself.

He finished his food with another knot forming in his stomach. A different kind of worry than last night's. He couldn't bring himself to say anything else except thank Ram when he paid for the meal.

When they were about to leave, Ram took his wrist.

“Do you want to walk me to the bus stop?” King guessed and Ram’s face lit up.

“Ah, you’re worried that the dog will still be there, right?” Ram nodded, but King pulled his arm free, a little more fiercely than he had intended to.

“Don’t worry,” King went on. “I have to buy something first and then I’ll take a different route.”

King wanted so badly for Ram to drag him back to the bus stop, but he knew he couldn’t go through this right now. Not when his fragile hope was close to being shattered.

“It’s very safe!” he assured Ram. Much safer than walking right next to him with Ram’s hand on his arm in any case.

Ram simply nodded, as if he didn’t question King’s decision and for a moment King wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to buy anything after all and that he was scared he would come across the dog, but he knew it would make Ram question why he had lied in the first place, so he quickly said good bye and walked away, his heart aching more fiercely than it had before.

************************

here's my cracky drawing:


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter corresponds to chapter 6 of Killing me Softly.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading <3

King spent the week preparing for midterms – or rather, trying to calm Boss down, who seemed to have realised a little too late that he should have put in more work. 

He hadn’t seen Ram since their awkward dinner and while it gave him time to concentrate in revisions, he also wondered how he was doing. He assumed that if he would have needed his help, he would have come to him, and he should take it as a good sign that he hadn’t. 

But even now, he regretted walking away from him that evening. He couldn’t quite shake off the feeling that Ram must have found it strange that he had spent so much time looking at his facebook posts – and, worse – he couldn’t stop wondering if Ram’s neighbour wasn’t more than that after all. 

Spending more time with Boss and his friends, studying for the exam and having lunches and dinners together, he almost managed to pretend that he wasn’t thinking about Ram all the time. He avoided the table outside the faculty building, not quite knowing why he was afraid of running into him there. 

He had considered texting him to ask how he was faring, but he did not want to stress him out by asking about something that he would be worried about anyway. He had also wanted to ask about the grade he had gotten for the test, but then he wasn’t sure whether it might have been worse than expected and he did not want to accidentally bring it up – not after Ram had been so confident about it.

Ram hadn’t posted anything on facebook since he had asked him about his neighbour last week, and King wondered whether he had gone too far, stalking his profile like that. 

He sighed as he sat down, hoping that Ram would know how to answer the questions he was undoubtedly receiving right this minute, too. King did not find the exam overly difficult, but his thoughts kept drifting off and he had to call himself to order several times. In the end, he still handed his papers in before everyone else. 

After it was done, Bohn, Boss and he went shopping and then took a cab to his parents’ house. They were gone for a couple of days and had allowed King to celebrate the exams at home. While Boss had been talking about food pretty much nonstop since handing in his exam papers, Bohn and King had assumed that he would cook for them. 

When he almost set the kitchen on fire, they realised their dilemma. Thankfully, Bohn brought up the idea to invite Duen to cook, and while King was certain that he’d be celebrating with his friends, he liked the idea. “Hey Bohn. Tell Duen his friends can come, too. We’ve got enough food to feed a small army!”

He wasn’t sure whether Ram would be with them. He couldn’t even say why, but he somehow feared that he might be avoiding him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t run into him all week, even though he had been the one actively avoiding places he knew Ram would hang out at. 

When he saw him walk through the house towards them next to Duen, his heart gave a little start. Phu, Ting Ting and Tang had also come and after they said hello, they began to check out the drinks King had placed on a side table. Duen took Bohn inside to help with the cooking, and suddenly Ram stood there, all by himself, looking at King as if he wasn’t quite sure why he had come. He didn’t look very happy, as far as he could tell from his almost neutral expression. He wasn’t even sure what exactly it was that told him, but he was certain that something was wrong. 

King stood up, unable to see him like this any longer, longing to make him smile. “I didn’t think you would come,” he finally said, noting the strange look Boss gave him and Ram. He chose to ignore it. 

Ram carefully put his backpack on the table, but he looked lost and upset, and King couldn’t stand it. “What are you thinking about?” King asked, feeling him shy away from him. “You’re frowning.”

When he grew worried that Ram might start crying right there and then, he took hold of his wrist, pulling him away from their friends’ prying eyes. “Come with me.”

He hoped Ram wouldn’t find it too forward, but he could feel sadness radiate from him and he needed him to feel better, and the only way he could think of to make that happen was to take him to his own little cabin on the canal, in the back of their large garden. He had spent a large part of his childhood there, hiding away from the world and tending to his plants. The only other person who had sometimes joined him there was his grandma, but since she had grown older, she wasn’t visiting Bangkok a lot anymore, so it was mostly just he by himself. 

He stopped on the edge of the small bridge that led up to the cabin and let go of Ram’s wrist to give him some space. He had not wanted to pull him all the way, but somehow, he hadn’t been able to let go just yet. Now he felt that Ram would follow him without being pulled. “This is my secret place,” he explained, hoping Ram wouldn’t find it too cheesy. “When I feel down, I like to come here and relax.”

King entered the cabin and sat down on a cushion he had sat on so often. Ram followed suit, sitting down cross legged and looking at the cabin. His face had relaxed the instance he had entered the cabin and King counted that as a massive improvement. And he could understand it. This place was a slice of paradise and he couldn’t hold onto any negative thoughts while he was here, surrounded by plants and fresh air, sunshine and the smell of his grandmother’s Jasmine trees that stood further down the path. 

And as Ram looked, King allowed himself to look just at him. He looked beautiful in this light, soft around the edges, and his eyes were wide open, as if he was trying to take in as much as he could. 

King fought the urge to reach out and take his hand, and, once the urge became overwhelming, he turned around and picked up a flower he had spent a lot of time trying to get to grow. It carried just one blossom, but, picking it up, he knew it would be a small sacrifice to make. 

“All plants need time to grow,” he explained, hoping Ram would understand what he was trying to say. “It’s not at all easy to make them grow. But after a while you get a result, which is this beautiful flower.”

He held it up so that Ram could look at it, which he did, his eyes still wide. King smiled and then plucked the fragile blossom from its stem. “It’s pretty, right?” 

He had just wanted to give it to Ram, to look at and hold for a while. To understand that everything took time. But now that he held the blossom in his hand, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and tucking it above Ram’s ear. His grandmother had done that to him and his sisters a lot when they were little, telling them that no child should ever be without a flower in its hair. But once he had done it, he realised how incredibly intimate the gesture had been, and how utterly gorgeous Ram looked like that. 

King saw him blush and he wondered if he should apologise for being so straightforward, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to say the words. After a moment, Ram pulled the flower out of his hair and studied it closely. King was almost relieved, because he couldn’t have imagined going back to the others and have Ram look like that. They would have known that something was going on, even if he didn’t know what that something was. 

“I don’t know what is upsetting you right now,” King said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t scare Ram away, “but I am sure that you will get past it. Just like these plants, after the hardest stage, it will become a beautiful flower.” Another piece of wisdom his grandma had shared with him whenever he had grown impatient of something. 

And Ram simply looked at him, as if he wasn’t quite sure what King was trying to tell him. Once again, King found it impossible to look away, and finally he had to force himself to. He began checking on the other plants, even though there was no real need. When he wasn’t there, his mother made sure the plants were taken care off. 

And then he knew what he could do help. 

“Hey Ning,” he turned around and was stunned for a second. The way Ram looked at him was exactly the way he thought he looked at Ram all the time. For that endless second, he suddenly felt hope surge through him. He forced himself to continue his thought. “People who talk so little, like you, must find it hard to find someone who understands them, no? That’s why you keep all your problems to yourself. But if there is anything that is bothering you, you can come here any time, okay?”

He couldn’t do more than open his home and his heart to him, could he? If Ram couldn’t talk about his problems, he could offer him a safe space to just be. Maybe he could try talking to his plants, too. He always found it therapeutic, so why shouldn’t Ram?

Ram nodded, looking a little feverish again, and King nodded back, reaffirming his offer. Then he turned around again, checking on his avocado plant. Suddenly, Ram’s voice broke the silence. “The person who understands me, is you,” he said and King knew he was staring now. 

He could feel his pulse in his neck, thundering away. From the first time he had met Ram, he had tried to get him to talk to him and he had tried to get to know him, and he had always hoped that Ram felt comfortable and safe with him, but to have his confirmation spoken out loud was something he had never even dreamed of. He had wanted to be Ram’s friend, and the moment when Ram had shown his pain to him when he had hidden it from his friends had already given him hope that his patience had been worth it, but now Ram had told him, to his face, that he felt that King understood him better than anyone else, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. He felt as if Ram had just handed him the most delicate of flowers to safeguard and protect when he knew his hands were too large and too clumsy to safely do it. 

“Umm, good,” he finally managed, reaching out to touch Ram’s arm awkwardly, instead of taking both of his hands in his as he actually wanted. And then he had to turn away again, escape those eyes that seemed to look right into his soul. His fingers shook lightly as he imagined pulling Ram close and kissing him, right here, in his little cabin. He closed his eyes, trying to push the thought away, missing the flower pot he had been reaching for and hitting his hand on the roughly hewn wooden shelf. 

“Oww,” he gasped as he felt a splinter sink into his finger. Then he stared at the sharp splinter on his hand, feeling queasy. “Don’t laugh, just take it out, please!” He held out his hand to Ram and tried to breathe the constricting feeling in his throat away, but he was unable to make it better.

Ram waited until he had caught his eye before he very gently took his hand into his. For a moment, the pain and the panic were swept away by the feeling of his own hand in Ram’s, but then he closed his fingernails over the wood and pulled, and suddenly it all came crashing back down. 

“Ai’Ning be gentle!” King was close to tears and Ram rubbed his wrist a little. It helped him to calm down a little, but he still couldn’t quite control the panic in his chest. He knew he was being irrational, but all he could think of was something sharp having pierced his skin. Something that might cause an inflammation and land him in hospital and … Ram pulled again and King yelped when he could feel the splinter move. “Ai’Ning, it’s coming!” He was both horrified and relieved, but then Ram giggled. 

It was the most beautiful sound in the whole world. 

“What? That's not funny!” he said, lamely, unable to fight the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

Ram bit his lip and still smiled as he finally removed the entire piece of wood from King’s finger. A second after, they were surprised by Ting, Tang and Phu. Ram was startled, his face immediately slipping back into neutrality and he let go of King’s hand. 

King felt himself sober up, understanding that whatever it was that he and Ram had shared just then, it wasn’t going to survive outside of the cabin. 

“What are you guys doing?” Ting demanded and King wondered why she sounded so curious. 

“I have a splinter in my hand,” he held his finger up for them to see. Then he realised that there must have been a reason for the three of them showing up like that, looking for him. “What’s wrong?”

Ting murmured something he couldn’t understand, but he saw Ram shrink back a little, as if he felt uncomfortable with the entire situation and King wondered whether he felt embarrassed, being dragged away from his friends and then found fifteen minutes later in a small garden cabin with King. 

“We’re here to tell you that the barbeque is ready,” Ting said with a smile and King nodded. He had been neglecting his duties as the host. But, at least he had managed to make Ram not only smile, but giggle, and that was much better than anything he could have imagined. 

“Okay, okay, we’ll be right there,” he nodded and watched as they slunk away again. When his eyes met Ram’s, his discomfort seemed to have been replaced with amusement, even though he couldn’t fathom what he was amused about. 

They rose and left the cabin quietly, making their way back to the veranda. 

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, anecdotes and wild stories, though when his sister turned up to meet his friends, things became a little awkward. When Bohn realised that Kumfah knew Ram, he hoped that Bohn wouldn’t ask him about it, even though there was no shame in explaining that Ram had come home with him one day to pick up his notes. Still, he had not told anyone about that day, and he wasn’t planning on doing so now. 

He noticed that Boss looked at him strangely again and he wondered whether he suspected anything. When he had complained about not knowing anything about King’s husband, he had been joking, but King had the feeling that, since then, Boss had made it his mission to find out more. He ignored him and drank deeply when Kumfah started asking Bohn and Duen about their relationship.

He was delighted when Bohn and Duen, put on the spot, declared that they were, in fact, dating. He dearly hoped that Bohn would hold it together and not upset Duen, especially since Ram was right there to keep an eye on them, but even as he thought about it, they began bickering again. When an almost kiss, cheered on by his sister, ended in Duen collapsing against Bohn’s chest, King knew that they’d be spending the night in the guest room. There was no way he would allow Duen to set a foot outside of his house before he was sober.

Ting Ting and Phu also drank quite a lot. Boss kept it to a couple of shots, but he was generally quite good at holding his liquor, Tang had drank only beer and was a little tipsy, but nowhere near the state of his friends, while Ram hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol. 

He had eaten, completely silent, but every now and then he had caught his eye and King was glad to see that the sadness he had felt radiate from him earlier had grown less intense. 

He secretly hoped that Ram would ask to spend the night, too, especially since he wasn’t drunk. They would be able to sit outside, just the two of them, watch the stars and just be. And maybe, just maybe, he would dare to take his hand, just to see what would happen. 

But when they all got ready to leave, he knew that Ram wouldn’t stay with him. He was the only sober person who could make sure that his friends would get home safely, as they all insisted on going home. When they said their good byes, he hoped Ting Ting wouldn’t lose her purse and jumper, so he reminded Tang to make sure she had everything with her. 

As they all left, he turned to go back into the house and ready the guest room for Duen and Bohn, but he was held back by a strong hand on his arm. He turned around, surprised by how tightly Ram held on to him. “What are you doing?” he asked. Ram’s eyes were full of pain, and it affected King deeply, because he had thought that the evening had sufficed to make him feel better. Whatever it was that hurt him, he was about to tell him, and King was both grateful and filled with dread as to what it could be. If Ram was so upset by it, it had to be something serious. 

“My dad,” he started, but then Tang called out for him, and Ram, being Ram, let go of King’s arm and quickly joined his friends, making sure they got down the path to the main road without stumbling. 

King stared down at his wrist, still feeling Ram’s fingers there. He hoped Ram would reach out again, and finally tell him what had happened, because he couldn’t stand the thought of him being so unhappy.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I spent my morning writing almost 5k words of King being worried about Ram. I'm so emotional about them ughhhhh. (This chapter corresponds to chapter 7 and 8 of Killing Me Softly)  
> Thanks for reading <3

King made sure that Duen and Bohn had everything they needed before he cleared the table outside and then sat in the dark, looking up at the sky. How he wanted Ram to sit right next to him, his near-silence a physical presence next to him! He couldn’t forget the sound of his giggles earlier that day. 

He swallowed against the butterflies in his stomach and closed his eyes, pretending for just a moment that he wasn’t out here by himself. When a breeze ruffled his hair and tickled his face, he couldn’t help but smile. They’d be on the volunteer trip soon, spending three whole days together. He couldn’t wait for that. 

When he woke up the next morning, he could hear Duen and Bohn bickering in the kitchen. He opened his eyes and blinked tiredly at the empty space next to him on the bed. Then he sighed deeply, rubbed his eyes and told himself to get a grip. He was dangerously close to allowing his feelings for Ram to take over and he was certain it could only end in heartbreak. 

He got up, had a quick shower, and found that Duen had made breakfast and was currently instructing Bohn to set the table when he came into the kitchen. When they noticed King, Bohn blushed, deeply, and King wondered what else they had been up to just a moment ago. He grinned. “Morning. How did you sleep?”

Duen smiled and handed him a plate with fried chicken. “Well, thank you.”

King watched Bohn quietly setting out plates and cups. When Bohn finally met his eyes, King knew with a surprising certainty that Bohn was frustrated and that Duen must have enjoyed teasing him about it. He raised his eyebrow in a challenging way and Bohn scowled at him. Duen brought over the rest of the food and then leaned in close over Bohn’s shoulder to pull a bowl closer to him. It was unnecessary and he did it clearly just to tease Bohn, who gave Duen an almost angry nudge with his elbow. 

King grinned. If Ram could only see how Duen had turned the tables!

Later that day, when Duen and Bohn had gone home, King stood in his parent’s garden, watering the plants. He went to sit in the cabin for a bit, wondering what had happened to the small blossom he had tucked into Ram’s hair. The memory of it made him smile, but it also made his cheeks burn. Ram must have seen what he felt for him then. He had been staring so blatantly. And Ram hadn’t looked away. 

He dropped down onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. This boy would drive him crazy, he realised. He was like an addiction – each time it became harder to let go. 

King blew out his breath and then pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had uploaded the group selfies he had taken last night to facebook, but Ram hadn’t reacted to them, so maybe he hadn’t seen them yet. He zoomed in on Ram’s face in one of them, glad to see that he didn’t look sad in it. Then he copied the link to the album and texted Ram.

_“Done stressing yet?”_

He hoped it didn’t sound like he wasn’t taking Ram’s problems seriously and he hoped the pictures would make him smile. 

_“If not, go and have a look at the pictures I posted yesterday!”_

He sent the link right after. Then he wondered how he would feel if he’d tried to share something that was obviously making him sad with a friend, only to end up not being able to talk about it properly. Being reminded of that would just make it worse, wouldn’t it?

 _“Or did I stress you out even more?”_

It sounded clumsy, but he had to ask, hoping for a reply. If Ram texted him back, he would be alright. 

When none came, he felt his heart sink. Ram had read the messages right away, but he did not write back. King considered calling him, hoping that after yesterday, Ram might actually talk to him on the phone, but he wasn’t sure whether he would appreciate it. He would be with his family, wouldn’t he? And he had wanted to say something about his dad before Tang had stopped him. Maybe he couldn’t text back because he was dealing with his problem right then. 

King sighed and went back to the house. He made sure that he left everything clean before he took the bus to his condo, where he spent a couple of hours taking care of his plants there, repotting some of the larger ones on the balcony. 

When Ram still hadn’t texted him back, he decided to take a walk to take his mind off worrying about him. The sky was dark with clouds and he was certain it would rain at some point soon, so he took Ram’s umbrella. As he strolled through the nearby park, he remembered the day when they had taken the bus back together. He hadn’t been able to figure Ram out at all, but afterwards, it had become easier for him to read his silences, as if he had gotten to know him better on the day without realising. 

It had gotten dark when the first drops began to fall and King knew he should make his way home. He walked around the corner of one of the small service buildings at the edge of the park when he saw himself confronted with three enormous dogs. He jumped back, his heart racing. But then he carefully poked his head around the corner, because he had been sure that the person holding the leashes of the dogs had been Ram. He had only seen his back, but he was certain it had been him. He remembered the multitude of dog photos on Ram’s facebook and he knew he was right. 

Yet, he had no idea what Ram was doing here. The weather had been obviously unstable and Ram lived more than a mile away from him.

“Hey Ning,” he called out to him, “why are you standing there?” 

Ram turned around and King felt his stomach drop. He looked sadder than he had ever seen him. The anxiety he had carried with him since texting him became full blown worry. 

“It’s going to rain soon,” he added, unhelpfully, and Ram looked up at the sky as if he had only just realised that that the thunder and lighting had come from above him. When he looked back at King, he could feel his heart break for him. Whatever had happened was bad, and Ram didn’t know how to deal with it. King wanted to hug him, but the dogs terrified him, even though they had been entirely calm. But they would know that Ram was upset and they would protect him, wouldn’t they? 

“Come with me!” he said, hoping that Ram would listen. He couldn’t stand the thought of him being out here by himself, in the thunderstorm, with no safe place to go. He was relieved when Ram followed him, keeping a distance between them. It was only when they walked through the door of his building and Ram put himself between King and the dogs that King realised that Ram had stayed back a little for his sake. The urge to hug him only grew stronger. 

He unlocked his front door and walked ahead a few paces before taking off his shoes, feeling on edge being so close to the dogs. “Come inside,” he told Ram, who stood in the midst of his dogs with very little room to move at all. “Just come in.”

But then the largest of the dogs moved towards him and King felt panic rise in his chest. “Hey, just leave them there, don’t let them come in,” he shouted, knowing he was being ridiculous, but unable to hold himself back. He rushed into the bathroom and got towels for him and Ram. It had started to rain heavily just before they had reached his condo, and while he had had the umbrella, Ram has been unable to cover up, holding the dog’s leashes. 

“Here, take this!” He threw one of the towels to Ram, who caught it and immediately began drying his dogs. 

King wanted to be upset, but the gesture only made him love Ram more. “It’s for you, not the dogs,” he complained, and Ram straightened and began using the same towel to dry his hair. “Wait!” he interrupted him. “You already used it on the dog, get a new one.” He threw the towel he had used on himself to Ram, knowing very well that Ram wouldn’t really see the difference between using a towel he had used on the dogs and a towel that King had used already, but he was on edge, and scared and worried, all for different reasons, and he knew that he needed to calm down in order to be able to help Ram. 

“Dry yourself and then take a shower. You can stay here tonight. It’s still raining outside.” King hoped that Ram would agree. He clearly didn’t have a place to stay, and while King’s condo was much too small for the dogs, he had enough room for Ram. Yet, he could see the doubt on his face as he looked at his dogs, and he knew he would walk away if he didn’t convince him to stay. 

“It’s fine,” Ram said, sounding resigned. 

_Nothing is fine_ , King thought, but he wasn’t sure how to convince Ram to stay until an idea occured to him. “Do you want the dogs to get wet?” he asked, surprised by how worried he sounded – even if his worry wasn’t exactly for the dogs. “Just stay over, trust me! You can tie them up outside on the balcony for now. They’ll be safe there.” He watched as Ram took off his shoes and tried to dry his clothes enough to not get King’s floor wet, and then he showed him the balcony, trying to keep as much distance between himself and the dogs as possible. 

Once Ram returned, King felt much calmer. One problem had been taken care of, at least. 

“Here’s the bathroom. Take all the time you need,” he told Ram, handing him a larger towel. Ram’s eyes still carried their sadness, and now that he was so close to him, King felt it even more vividly. He couldn’t quite handle seeing him like this, so he walked into the kitchen and began sorting out tea. Tea always helped, didn’t it? 

Then he realised that Ram hadn’t taken his backpack into the bathroom with him, so he didn’t have any clothes to change into. King went to his own wardrobe and pulled out a t-shirt and sweatpants, enjoying the thought that Ram would be wearing his clothes. His sister had told King that Ram had had to borrow a t-shirt from him when she had poured water all over him back when she had driven Ram home and King had not allowed himself to think too deeply about the fact that Ram had gone through his clothes at his parents' place to pick one out, and then taken off his wet shirt in his bedroom. 

He swallowed and quickly opened the door to the bathroom, placing the clothes right behind the door, without glancing at Ram in the shower. After he closed the door again, he leaned against it, trying to calm his breathing. While the thought that Ram had taken off his shirt in his bedroom had excited him, the knowledge that Ram was currently naked in his shower made him feel a little light headed. He cursed his body’s reaction, feeling guilty for his thoughts when he should consider how he could help Ram deal with the situation he was in right then. 

He went into his bedroom and took a duvet and a pillow to the living room. He’s give Ram the bed and sleep on the couch, certain that Ram would need some space. 

When he heard the blow dryer go, he finished making tea and once Ram came out of his bathroom, his hair down, looking exhausted, King once again had to fight the urge to draw him into his arms. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way, but he knew that a hug would make Ram feel better. Instead, he pressed a cup of tea into his hands. 

“I’ll go and hit the shower, too. Just make yourself comfortable, yeah?” he told him before he hid in the bathroom. He showered quickly and put on his pyjamas. 

He found Ram standing in the living room, staring out into the night. His heart broke a little seeing him like this. He wasn’t sure whether he should acknowledge that Ram was clearly crying, but trying to hide it from him, or just pretend that nothing was wrong. “Did you tie them up properly?” he asked, rubbing the towel at a wet spot on his neck. When Ram didn’t answer, he looked at him, finding him looking back. His eyes were reddened as he nodded. Then he turned around again and sat down, and King couldn’t help but think how small he looked like this. As if his pain diminished him, somehow. 

“Tonight, you’ll sleep in my room and I’ll sleep here,” he said, not knowing what else to say. He sat on the couch, clasping the towel, looking at Ram’s back. 

After a moment of quiet, Ram turned around to look at him again. “Aren’t you going to ask what happened?” After Ram had said very little since arriving at King’s place, he was surprised to hear how gentle he sounded, still, despite it all. 

King sighed. “I don’t have to. I can guess what happened.” 

Ram turned away, but King had seen how his face had contorted. He was crying again and there was nothing to could do to make him stop. 

“Something must have happened at home that hurt your feelings badly. If you stayed at your dorm, your parents could come and find you,” he said, trying to keep his voice low. He was afraid of making it worse. “And you can’t tell your friends about it. That’s why you ended up wandering around with your dogs.” 

Ram turned around again, tears glistening on his cheeks. He didn’t say a word.

“No answer,” King said quietly, “that means I’ve guessed right.” He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell him that he was safe here. That he could stay for as long as he needed and that he did not have to hide his tears from him, but he knew that he would start crying, too, if he so much as tried to address it. 

He lay down on the couch, hiding from him and his emotions under the duvet. “Switch the lights off when you go to bed, okay?” 

He closed his eyes, trying to keep his own tears back. But then Ram sniffed, loudly, and repeatedly, and he knew he couldn’t just lie there and let him cry. He got up again and made his way over to Ram, his hand shaking a little as he reached out to touch his shoulder. Ram was sobbing and King felt utterly helpless in the face of it. 

When Ram looked at him, his face wet, King felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. 

“Today, my father and my best friend betrayed me. They are having an affair,” Ram said, sounding just as helpless as King felt. And King realised how wrong he had gotten it all. Pin Pin wasn’t Ram’s girlfriend. She was a close family friend and she … she had … with his dad? He couldn’t fathom the heartbreak Ram was going through. “What should I do?” Ram asked, tears running freely now. 

“I don’t know, either,” King said, unable to even imagine what he would do in such a situation. He knew he couldn’t help Ram at all with this, but he could be the friend Ram needed. “But you can stay here for as long as you need to, until you feel better,” he promised, squeezing his shoulder again. 

Then, without thinking, he pulled his hand away and gently ruffled Ram’s hair, knowing that it always had had a calming effect on him when he was younger. Ram looked up, seemingly surprised, but when King tried to smile at him, his face crumpled and he began sobbing again. He wasn’t sure whether he was guiding him or whether Ram just decided to lean in, but he leaned his head against his hip, crying freely. “It will be fine,” King promised, hearing his own voice break. 

While he was glad that Ram trusted him enough to show his emotions without inhibition, he knew that it wouldn’t be enough to offer him the comfort he needed. He sat down next to Ram and pulled him into his arms, blinking away tears when Ram let himself be embraced, his sobs growing even more desperate. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Ram’s hair, rocking back and forth, trying to soothe them both. 

He was relieved when Ram calmed down after a while, the sobs growing less frequent. King still held him tightly, not quite ready to let go of him just yet, but when Ram began wiping at his face, he knew he needed to give him space. He let go of him and moved away a little as soon as Ram sat up. He looked utterly exhausted and King wanted to pull him right back into his arms and let him fall asleep there. Instead, he cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment and moved away even further. 

“Thank you,” Ram sniffed and wiped his face again. 

King tried to smile but knew he was failing. “Go get some sleep, hmm?” he asked, petting his wrist. Ram nodded and got up, barely able to stand. King wondered whether he should help him walk, but Ram took a couple of steps, and stayed upright, so King watched him as he made his way into the bedroom. He dropped down onto the bed, covered himself with the duvet, and immediately fell asleep.

King watched him from the door for a while, wiping away the tears that had come as soon as Ram had closed his eyes. At least he looked less pained like this, curled up in his bed. 

He switched off the light and made his way back to the living room, lying down in the dark but unable to sleep. When he had decided he would get Ram to talk to him, he had never once thought that Ram would open up to him so completely. That the boy who rarely ever showed emotions would share his pain with him in such an intimate way. Ram trusted King, and he wasn’t sure how or when that had happened, but he was acutely aware of how precious that trust was. 

He fell asleep to the memory of his body in his arms. 

***

The sun woke him in the morning and he felt a little emotionally hung over. Ram was in his flat. Ram, who had cried in his arms and shared with him the horrible secret he had been carrying around with himself without sharing it with anyone else. 

He got up and checked on Ram, finding him still asleep in his bed. His heart melted a little at the sight of him there. While the reason for it was truly upsetting, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ram looked comfortable and at home in his bed. He went to open the balcony door to let in some fresh air. Ram’s dogs had lain huddled in a heap but now raised their heads with interest, sniffing in his direction. Good thing Ram had tied them to the banister, he thought as he made his way into the kitchen to get himself something to eat. 

When he went to the couch to roll up the bedding he had used, he suddenly heard a sniff. Then another one, and then a wet nose touched his arm. 

In a flash, he was up on the sofa, yelling at the dog to leave him alone. He somehow guessed that it was more interested in his sandwich than him, but right then, he did not even dare to throw it away to see if they would go after it. When the dog began climbing onto the couch, while the other two looked up at him with obvious interest, too, King thought he was going to faint for fear. He tried to tell himself that Ram’s dogs wouldn’t hurt him, and that they were objectively cute, but the fear was still there and …

Ram appeared out of nowhere, pulling the dogs back and taking them to the front door, telling them to sit there. They did exactly as he told them and King felt his legs give. He sat on the couch, breathing heavily. But then Ram smiled at him and despite everything else, King felt worlds better. 

Ram disappeared for a moment and returned with canned food, which he prepared on paper plates before putting it in front of the dogs. Only after he nodded at them, the dogs began to eat. King was certain now that they wouldn’t have bitten him, but he couldn’t bring himself to trust that certainty. 

He remembered the sandwich in his hand and took another bite. 

“Is that your breakfast?” Ram asked, looking a little put out. When King nodded, Ram rolled his eyes and then went to wash his hands. He began looking through King’s cupboards and with each door and cabinet he opened, King felt his heart expand. Ram was treating his kitchen like his own and the notion made him inexplicably happy. 

He watched him cook, his movements sure and practiced, as if he did that every day. And he probably did, too, didn’t he? Of course Ram would know how to cook. King felt a little embarrassed that his own skills ended at scrambled eggs and rice pudding, but Ram did not seem to mind cooking for him at all. He wondered whether it was another way of saying thank you, but he hoped it wasn't just that.

He wanted Ram to cook because he felt at home in his condo. He wanted Ram to treat it like his own space, because King wanted it to be that. 

Ram looked at him every now and then and each time King felt his body react to it. Ram’s hair was still down and he wore the clothes King had given him last night, and, most importantly, he did not look sad anymore. Just tired and adorable and very, very huggable. 

King berated himself for allowing his thoughts to go there, and he was glad when Ram told him to come and eat. 

King made his way over to Ram, putting as much distance between himself and the dogs as possible, and then sat down by the kitchen table, his feet up on the seat and his knees close to his chest. He knew that if a dog came and sniffed at his leg, he would probably knock the table over in panic. When he met Ram’s eyes, he felt a delicious twist in his stomach. Ram’s eyes smiled again. The light that he hadn’t seen at all yesterday was back in them and King wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand. Instead, he began eating the breakfast Ram had cooked for him. 

He watched the dogs carefully while he ate, ready to jump up and run in case they decided to join them.

“I’m sorry, I will bring the dogs to Duen’s house,” Ram promised, and King felt guilty for being so obvious in his fear. He did not want Ram to feel bad about having brought them. “They can stay, so you don’t get lonely, right?” he knew his grin looked forced, but maybe Ram wouldn’t notice?

He could tell immediately that Ram had. “But you are scared of the dogs,” he said gently and King realised, a little belatedly, that Ram was indeed talking to him. He had been speaking in full sentences since he had saved him from the dogs earlier. King felt his heart beat heavily in his chest with his knees pressed so close. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry. We should eat!” he said, trying to convince himself that he would be fine with the dogs in his condo as long as Ram stayed, too. 

When Ram suddenly got up, he wasn’t sure whether he had been so preoccupied thinking about him that he had somehow missed him speaking. But he returned quickly, holding a Venus flytrap in his hands. King gaped. “Is that the Venus flytrap that I got for you?”

Ram simply nodded and began eating, and King picked up the pot. It had grown beautifully. Ram must have taken very good care of it. “It grew so big,” he said, smiling at it. But why had Ram brought it with him when he ran away from home? “I didn't think you would bring it with you,” he said, wondering how many things Ram hadn’t packed to be able to carry the pot in his backpack without risking to break it. 

“It’s important to me,” Ram said, and King stared at him. He wanted to ask why, but didn’t dare. Ram looked a little embarrassed and King hoped it wasn’t because of how he stared at him. But he couldn’t quite get over the fact that Ram had found it important enough to bring it even though he had had no idea where he would have ended up staying. Suddenly, meeting him just before the thunderstorm seemed a bit like destiny to him. 

Or maybe, his brain interrupted his soppy thoughts, Ram just liked things that were alive. He had brought his dogs and a plant, and, despite it all, the plant was easier to take care off than the dogs. And yet … 

He forced himself to finish his breakfast, watching Ram eat his own calmly. He could get used to this, he thought with a smile. 

After they had finished, King told Ram to get changed, but Ram took the dogs outside again first, for which King was very grateful. He picked his clothes from his wardrobe and changed in the bathroom before he washed the dishes. As he dried his hands, an idea occurred to him. 

When Ram came out of the bathroom, his hair styled again, much to King’s disappointment, he took him to the spare room next to the front door. “I have an idea.” He pulled open the door. “The dogs can stay here, don't you think?” He never really used the room, because he had simply made his balcony his second bedroom. He unrolled a rug and placed it in the middle of the floor, hoping that it would make the room seem a little less empty. “It’s not large, but they’ll be comfortable, no?”

Ram looked at the room, his expression neutral. So he agreed, King thought, smiling. When Ram went to get the dogs, King stayed back, and as soon as the door closed between the dogs and them, he let go of his breath that he hadn’t been aware of holding. 

“Thank you for giving up the room for them,” Ram said behind him, and, once again amazed by the fact that Ram simply talked to him now, he turned around. 

“Oh, no one is using that room anyway,” he said with another forced smile. “They can … stay in there, right?” It wasn’t large, but at least for now, they would be unable to simply appear out of nowhere and scare the living daylights out of him. 

Ram’s almost imperceptible, private smile was enough to make up for it all, though.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter corresponds to chapter 9 of Killing me Softly.

King knew the room would be too small for the dogs in the long run, and he knew that Ram’s suggestion to bring them to Duen’s family was the only sensible one, but for now he was truly glad that they did not pose an immediate threat. He was just starting to wonder how they could spend their day when a knock from the front door startled them.

His nephews flew through the door as soon as he opened it, going in for hugs. His sister Kumfah immediately spotted Ram behind him and he knew the inevitable comments would come. Before she could embarrass Ram, he interjected her question of whether he was his boyfriend, saying that they were living together now. Even as he said it, he wished it was true. He knew he was saying it more to tease his sister, and he hoped that Ram wouldn’t be horrified by how casual he made it sound, but saying it out loud felt a little bit like speaking a fact into existence.

He had no idea how long Ram would stay, but he dearly hoped that it would be for a long time. 

When his sister voiced her excitement, King humoured her by not contradicting any presumptions she was making. He knew that she had decided he and Ram were a couple a long time ago, having asked for his permission for her to check out King’s friends during the barbeque, and no matter what he said would deter her from believing it. 

“Anyway, why are you here so early in the morning,” he changed the topic. 

When she asked him whether he would mind watching his nephews for the day, he was excited. He hadn’t seen them in a while and they would definitely be fun to have around. Maybe Ram would find them to be a nice distraction.

“No problem,” he promised and waited her for her to say good bye to her kids. 

“Ram, I’ll see you,” she said with a meaningful glance, sounding very excited, and King wondered whether he should have maybe, just maybe, tried to deter her a little bit. Well, too late now, he guessed. His sister left, looking happier than he had seen her in a long time and, for a second, he allowed himself to pretend that it was all true. That Ram was his boyfriend and that he lived with him and that he’d be invited to all the family events and always get a little shy around Kumfah. 

He swallowed down that thought and told his nephews to come inside properly. When they looked at Ram, they immediately spotted his tattoo. He knew it was partly his fault, because he had often pointed out people with tattoos he found cool when he had spent time with them, but when they all but tackled Ram, wanting a closer look at his, he could see him freeze. 

At first, he was amused, watching Ram trying to ignore the two boys trying to climb up his sleeves. But then he grew a little worried, seeing how obviously uncomfortable Ram was. He recognised the look on his face. Ram was scared. 

Ram, the strongest person he knew, who had smirked when Bohn had hit him. Ram, with shoulders so wide King could hide behind him. Ram, with his stoic expression that didn’t waver if he didn’t want it to. 

King sent his nephews away to find the chocolate he kept in a kitchen drawer to give Ram some space. When they left, Ram seemed to inhale for the first time since they had appeared in the condo. King was so delighted for a moment that he couldn’t stop himself from teasing Ram. 

“You are scared of kids,” he stated, watching Ram roll his eyes. He seemed both annoyed and relieved. 

“My god,” he grinned. “Cool Ram, who isn’t scared of anything, is scared of children!” He clasped his shoulder and shook him a little, good-naturedly. But Ram didn’t smile, as he had hoped, but gave him such a searing look that he let go of his shoulder, his delight dwindling. He took a step back. 

“Kids are hard to talk to,” Ram explained, and King thought, unhelpfully, that this couldn’t possibly be a justifiable reason for being scared of children. Ram had found it hard to talk to him as well. “Not like those dogs,” Ram added and King felt his smile return. “Ohh, I see,” he teased him, certain now that Ram would come to the same conclusion as him. 

But then his nephews piped up. “Wow, there are dogs?”

Ram’s eyes met his, and for a second they both stood frozen to the spot, staring at each other. A moment later, the three giants were already in the room, his nephews barely holding on to their leashes. One of them barked and all mirth was forgotten. 

He immediately hid behind Ram, holding on tightly to his arm and back, knowing that he would protect him from the dogs. But Ram didn’t move for a second, frozen where he stood, and King realised that he simply didn’t know what to do because of his nephews that were standing in the middle of it all. King shouting at him to take the dogs away was probably not helping, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

Finally, Ram grabbed the dogs’ collars and then their leashes out of Kew and Kram’s hands and pulled them back into the spare room. 

King, still feeling a little weak in the knees – a possible side effect of being confronted with Ram’s dogs so unexpectedly, or maybe because he had felt the muscles shift in Ram's arm once he had started to move again – told his nephews to go and play on their phone in the bedroom. 

He waited until he got Ram’s okay before he dared to walk back into the living room, signalling him that the kids were taken care of, too. They dropped down on the couch in hilarious synchronicity and for a moment, King had to fight the urge to pull Ram into his arms. To distract himself, he proposed that they should take the kids outside, lest they destroy his condo. He looked at Ram, and Ram looked back at him and King could feel it all the way down into his toes. 

After a few moments, Ram nodded, but then he didn’t move and King wondered if they could maybe just stay like this for a while. And maybe he could move his hand from his stomach, where it currently rested, onto the couch and accidentally touch Ram’s, and … 

Ram rose, much to his simultaneous disappointment and relief. He watched him for a moment before he could bring himself to get up, too. He went to get Kew and Kram and made sure that they had water and some snacks while Ram had disappeared in the dogs' room. 

They took a cab to the park, with Ram sitting in the front, as far away from the kids as possible, and then walked around aimlessly. He got his nephews some ice cream and they fed ducks and goldfish, and things seemed to be going relatively smoothly, until the kids said they were bored by just walking and wanted to play something. King wasn’t sure what they would like to do and he wondered whether they should find some other kids and ask if they could join in their game. He had not expected them to suggest a piggy-back ride. 

When his nephews explained that, if they won, they would get a picture of him and Ram kissing, he knew immediately that his sister had put them up to it. He looked at Ram, expecting him to be angry, or put out, but he just looked confused. 

“What is this challenge for,” he demanded, knowing that they wouldn’t just do something like this without getting anything in return. 

“Mum promised us a new video game if we get a photo of you kissing,” Kew explained and King knew he’d need to have a word with his sister. “Sis, what did you teach those rascals?” he cursed, but his nephews just grinned. “Alright then,” he agreed. “You see that tree over there? First one there wins!” He pointed at the small tree, knowing that there was no way his nephews would win this – if Ram was up to the challenge. 

“You guys should get ready to lose and never get that new video game you want,” he teased his nephews, who didn’t seem too bothered. 

And then he just jumped onto Ram’s back, trying not to think too hard about it all. Ram seemed to have expected him to, at least, and immediately hooked his arms under his legs, holding him up with apparent ease. And then they were off. King couldn’t quite believe it. He whooped and called for Ram to go faster, knowing he wouldn’t forget this anytime soon. He held onto his shoulders and was amazed how fast Ram was going, despite the additional weight on his back, and he couldn’t stop smiling. He knew that Ram would have held him up, even if he hadn’t held on to him. So he dared to lift one arm to point ahead at the tree, knowing that they would win this race, but also feeling slightly disappointed that he had chosen such a short distance for it. 

They reached the tree long before his nephews but then something snapped under Ram’s feet and they went down. It happened too fast for King to really get scared about either of them being hurt, but he was amazed that somehow, in their tumble, Ram turned around and ended up lying on his back, underneath him, while he managed to catch his fall a little bit, but ended up on top of Ram nevertheless. 

Ram had his eyes pressed closed, looking like he expected King to land heavily on him. When he didn’t, he opened his eyes, looking up with a frown as if he still expected to be hurt. And King couldn’t help but stare. He knew it was ridiculous, but to find himself straddling Ram’s thighs, his hands planted on the ground on either side of Ram’s arms, did something to his heart that he hadn’t been prepared for. 

Ram looked up at him, unmoving, as if King’s presence did more than physically pin him to the spot, and King found that he couldn’t look away. His heart beat heavily in his chest when he realised that his nephews were taking photos of them and he immediately knew that he needed to get his hands on that phone and delete those images – but not before sending them to his own phone. 

Realising he was putting Ram into an impossible position, he climbed off him and began dusting himself off, pulling Ram up. “Are you okay, Ning?” he asked, berating himself for not asking sooner. He was glad to see that Ram hadn’t twisted his ankle and seemed unhurt otherwise, too. 

“Are you taking pictures?” he asked his nephews, knowing he had to say something. “Fine, take them, but I promise you won’t get a new video game!” 

He turned to brush off bit of dry grass and leaves from Ram’s shoulder, trying not to let his hand linger there for longer than necessary, and then took the phone off his nephews. 

As they made their way to the visitor’s centre, his sister texted him from her work phone, telling him that she was done and would pick up her kids wherever they were. King texted her back that they’d be at the park’s parking lot soon, and then he sent the photos his nephews had taken to his own phone before deleting them. 

He would explain to her that they had taken photos but that he did not want to make Ram feel uncomfortable and had therefore deleted them. He hoped his nephews wouldn’t be too upset.

“Hey Ning,” he pressed Ram down onto a bench under a tree. He looked up at him, as if he wasn’t quite sure what was happening around him. “Wait here,” he told him. Then he took his nephews to the parking lot, buying them both a small plant to bring home. His sister arrived a few minutes later, asking whether her kids had behaved, the innuendo audible in her voice. 

King sighed. “They did take a couple of photos,” he said, watching his sister’s face as it lit up. “But I did not want to make Ram feel uncomfortable, so I deleted them. And no,” he added at her crestfallen expression, “we weren’t kissing.”

She shook her head as if she pitied him and he secretly agreed. 

“Thank you for watching over these two,” she hugged him tightly. “And don’t wait too long, hmm?”

As she walked away, he pondered on her words. Did she know, after all? 

To distract himself from the fact that his sister had gone from projecting her own assumptions onto his and Ram’s relationship to actually knowing how he felt about Ram, he bought some fried mango and made his way back to Ram. When he saw him, staring down at his hands, his face neutral, but his brows knitted, as if he was worrying about something, he realised that having the kids around had at least distracted him from thinking of his family. Now that he was alone, his thoughts would have gone back to his father. 

“I just brought Kew and Kram to my sister,” he said gently and Ram’s expression relaxed a little. “I thought these looked delicious and I bought some for you,” he handed him the bag with the mango, taking one for himself. He began eating immediately, trying to keep himself from asking about Ram’s father, and bit his tongue. The pain brought tears to his eyes for a moment and he swallowed down the mango he had just bitten off. It carried a coppery taste and he wondered whether he had bitten himself so hard that he was bleeding. 

Ram looked concerned and King explained what had happened. Then he asked him to see if he was bleeding, and Ram did look. For a second, King forgot to breathe, because Ram’s face was mere inches away from his own, but then Boss’s teasing voice came out of nowhere, mocking them about being sweet with each other in public and he realised how, at a quick glance, it might have looked like they were about to kiss. 

If only …

He scoffed. “And why are you all dressed so formal?” he shot back. “Are you going to receive a prize?” 

“No. It’s that we are always breaking the dress code, so today we are wearing it correctly to honour the university.”

Boss was very obviously lying, but he did not want to call him out on it in front of Ram and Mek. Though, Mek was probably in on it, by the looks of it. “Ha, you are very good people, huh?” he said instead. “Here, do you want some?” he held up the bag that was still in Ram’s hands. 

“What, I can eat some?” Boss asked and King confirmed his offer. He’d buy some more for Ram if they ended up eating it all. 

“Are you sure I’m not going to get in between you two?” Boss asked and King felt himself blush. Boss would always accidentally hit the nail on the head with his teasing, even if he didn’t actually mean to. He simply nodded and Boss started forward. “Then I will have some,” but Mek held him back. 

“It’s fine, we still have something to do!”

Boss looked put out. “I was just going to see how sweet they are!” he complained and King couldn’t quite believe it. First, his sister, and now Boss. Was he being so obvious? 

Once Mek had dragged Boss away, he motioned to Ram to eat something, too, and finished his own, the pain on his tongue forgotten. 

“I’ll go and get some water,” King finally announced. He needed a few minutes on his own. If his sister and Boss could see his infatuation, then maybe Ram could, too, and was simply too polite to say anything. He sighed, hoping that he wasn’t making Ram feel uncomfortable. He wanted to be there for him in any capacity that he would let him in. He was glad he trusted him enough to stay with him, and that he had joined them in the park, despite his dislike of children. And he had carried him on his back like it was the most natural thing in the world and … 

King knew he would only drive himself crazy if he continued to think about it all too deeply, so he decided that, as long as Ram wasn’t showing any signs of withdrawing from him, he would just try to behave as normally as possible. 

When he returned, Ram had moved away from the bench and lay on the lawn in the shade of the tree. He looked sad. 

King held out a bottle to him, but Ram didn’t move. “Are you worrying about your dad again?” he asked and Ram nodded, looking close to tears. 

And King knew he couldn’t stand to see him cry again and his heart contracted painfully at the memory of a sobbing Ram in his arms. So he did the one thing he could do. He lay down, too, though he did not dare to lie down next to him, not trusting himself to be so close to him like this. Instead, he lay upside down, his face level with Ram’s. 

He turned his head to look at him, marvelling at how beautiful he was, even in his sadness. He swallowed hard, knowing that he needed to make him feel better. Maybe his grandma’s wisdom would help him once again. 

“You know, nobody’s life is perfect,” he said, hoping Ram didn’t think he was trying to belittle his pain. “There are good things and bad things, but they pass eventually.” He dared to look at Ram again, who sighed and didn’t react in any other way. Alright, maybe it wasn’t what Ram had needed to hear. He pushed himself up on his elbow to look down on him. “Don’t overthink it and just let it be,” he said, trying to sound cheerful. “Now, come on, give me a smile.”

He was almost certain that it wouldn’t work, because Ram had always resisted his teasing, but maybe things had changed between them after last night. “Hey Ning, smile!” he tried again and Ram looked at him, making his heart stutter for a moment. But he couldn’t stop now. “Hey Ning, Ning, hey Ning, hey Ning!” he repeated, certain now that Ram would either smile or punch him on the nose. He would understand if he chose the latter option, he thought with a grin. “Smile, smile, smile!” he said even as Ram’s sad expression gave way to a smile. It held for just a moment, but King felt incredibly relieved. “Haha, you smile,” he chuckled, grinning at Ram. 

But then the smile disappeared from Ram’s lips, though it still lingered in the corners of his eyes, and he mirrored King in pushing himself up on one elbow to be able to look at him and for one second King was absolutely certain that Ram was about to kiss him. 

He stared, unable to take his eyes off Ram’s face. His eyes flicked to his lips and he felt his entire being drawn towards them.

“Thank you,” Ram said, and King wanted to die of embarrassment. Here he was, lusting after Ram who was in pain and who sincerely thanked him for cheering him up a little. But he couldn’t stop looking at his lips again, wondering what it would feel like. 

It was his fear of hurting Ram that made him snap out of it, and he moved back a little. “Oh, no problem,” he assured him. “Let’s nap, I am sleepy,” he added, lying down again, his heart beating so loudly in his ears he was sure Ram could hear it over the noise of the wind rustling the leaves above them. He closed his eyes tightly, angry with himself for almost losing control like this. Ram had seen him stare at his lips. He would know what King had been thinking. Just when he had wanted to make sure that Ram would trust him, he had gone and risked it all. 

He must have drifted off despite his heartache, because the next thing he heard was the bark of a dog. For a moment he thought that he had imagined it, but it wasn’t as near as he had feared. He glanced at Ram, who was fast asleep next to him, and then got up to investigate. He had no experience with dogs beyond running away from them on a regular basis and generally trying to avoid them as much as possible, but something in the dog’s bark told him that it wasn’t angry. It was afraid. 

He followed the sound and saw a dog tied to a tree. His front paw looked hurt and there was a man with wild hair and a wilder expression on his face threatening the dog. When King yelled at him to ask what he was doing, he turned on him and King grew a little afraid. The man looked deranged and dangerous. He wasn’t very tall, but looked quite strong and his movements were erratic. And he clearly wanted to hurt the dog.

Nevertheless, he moved away from both King and the dog, and King wondered what Ram would do. He was afraid that the dog would be hurt further, but he found himself unable to go nearer. He calculated whether he would be quick enough to run over to Ram and get him to help, but he was sure the man would attack the dog as soon as he left it alone.

He took a tentative step towards it. 

“Calm down,” he tried, wishing he had asked Ram how he always managed to get dogs to quieten down. “Don’t bark, hold on, please calm down!” He moved closer, but the dog continued to bark at him and he didn’t dare get into its biting range. “I’m trying to help you,” he said, hoping the dog would understand. But then he heard a noise behind him and he turned just in time to see the man run at him with a log in his hand. He cried out, wondering whether the dog’s bark had been a warning to him, before he felt the world spin. 

He felt the dog’s paw on his back and wondered whether he’d be bitten next, but the dog had stopped barking and instead sniffed at his head. When King pulled his hand away, the pain almost made him faint. His neck grew warm and when he looked down, his vision blurring, he saw that his hand had come away red. 

He heard the man behind him yell and then move away, but he didn’t have the strength to check whether the danger was over. The last thing he heard before he passed out was Ram’s worried voice, calling his name, and his hand on his back, holding him tightly.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why the chapters keep getting longer - heh.  
> This one definitely ups the rating a little XD
> 
> THis chapter corresponds to chapter 10 of Killing me Softly!

The next thing he remembered was a dull, pulsating pain in his head and Ram’s voice that was audible between each surge of pain. He couldn’t quite make sense of what he was saying, but concentrating on it helped him calm down a little. Something was clearly wrong with him, but Ram was still there and talking to him, then it couldn’t be so bad, could it?

He changed his mind when something sharp added to the pain with horrible regularity. He tried to ball his hands into fists, needing to do something to alleviate the pain, but he found that he couldn’t do it with his right one, because a hand was clasping his own. So he focused on that, holding on tightly, trying to breathe through the pain.

And then it was suddenly over and he felt nausea rush through him. He felt his own hand plucked away from the hand he had been holding and he dared to open his eyes, fearing that he would throw up if he did, but needing to know where Ram was.

He sat right there by his side, taking his hand in both of his now, his thumbs stroking the skin of the back of his hand in a way that sent an entirely unexpected flash of happiness through him. But then he saw Ram’s expression. He looked both incredibly worried and relieved, and by the way he looked at him, King knew he had been there the entire time, holding on to him, his voice reaching him even through the fog in his brain.

King tried to relax his shoulders and found, to his infinite relief, that some of the pain had come from the way he had had his shoulders pulled up, his neck cramping in response. He could localise the pain now.

Ram became blurry and he knew he was crying, though he couldn’t really do anything to stop the tears. Ram’s thumbs continued to stroke him and he tried to concentrate on that. He leaned back and closed his eyes, slipping back into darkness, with only the warmth around his hand tethering him to the moment.

He heard another voice that wasn’t Ram’s, but couldn’t recognise it. It was very kind and calm and he knew he was safe. When something was pressed into the palm of his free hand, he automatically put it to his lips and swallowed the pill, followed by a cup of water, from which he sipped to wash it down. He realised he must have lifted his head for it, but couldn't remember doing it.

Then there was movement. He knew he wasn’t lying down anymore, but sitting, and that he was moving nevertheless. Lights flashed regularly before his eyes and then the warmth of the day hit him as they left the air-conditioned building. He opened his eyes again when Ram spoke to him.

“Come on, we need to get you into the cab.”

He felt strong arms almost lift him out of the chair – a wheelchair, he realised, which explained a lot – and he tried to stand. It worked. A few paces and Ram gently guided him into a car. He sat, feeling strangely proud that he hadn’t hit his head on the frame of the door, and then he leaned into the arm around his shoulder. The car moved, but he couldn’t be bothered to wonder where they were going. As long as Ram was with him, he would be fine.

“King, we’re home,” Rams voice woke him up. “We need to get you upstairs, hmm?” King nodded and immediately regretted it. He climbed out of the car and then leaned against Ram for a bit, breathing away the nausea. Ram was very nice to lean against, he noted, wondering if he should share this vital piece of information with him. He deserved to know. When Ram pulled him along, he had to concentrate on moving his feet and couldn’t talk, so he did not tell him after all. Once in the elevator, he knew he had wanted to say something, but couldn’t for the life of him remember what it had been.

For some reason, he didn’t have to unlock the door, it just opened on its own, and he stumbled inside, noting but not caring for the barking that came out of one of his rooms – he couldn’t remember which – and then he was in his bed. He reached out to see if he could take hold of Ram and pull him down next to him, but he was gone.

He felt his shoes and socks being pulled off and then a duvet wrapped around him and he tried once again to find Ram, and once again, he clasped at thin air. And then he was too weak to try again and let sleep take him.

He woke up when Ram came into the room, carrying a tray. For a moment, he wondered why he was in bed at all and why Ram was bringing him food, but then Ram helped him sit up and he felt like he had been hit over the head with a blunt object. He remembered his dream about being in hospital and having gotten stitches. He shuddered to think of it.

“I dreamt I got stitches,” he told Ram, who placed another pillow behind his back to make sitting up easier for him.

“You weren't dreaming,” Ram answered, sounding worried.

And then King remembered. He remembered the attack by the man who had tried to hurt the dog. He remembered Ram’s arms around him and then his worried face when they were in hospital and the sharp pain that he had suffered through while Ram had been speaking to him. His words made sense now even when they hadn’t then.

He carefully touched the part of his head where his pain originated and regretted it immediately. The mere pressure sent a flash of pain through his entire body.

“How could you let them give me stitches? I’m scared of needles!” he complained, upset by the pain, but knowing he was being silly. It was over and there was nothing he could do about it and he had survived.

“I know,” Ram said, sounding the tiniest bit amused. King wanted to be upset with him, but found that he couldn’t really. Then he saw Ram’s hand which carried four small bloody half-moons. The marks of his fingernails.

King was horrified. Here he was complaining about a necessary operation while he had obviously hurt Ram. He looked up at him, wanting to apologise, but Ram turned away and then handed him a bowl with soup. He sat up to eat, but Ram interrupted him.

“You can’t go to the volunteer camp anymore,” Ram said, and King remembered that the other voice in the hospital had said something similar.

“Huh? I’m going, no matter what!” King countered. He wasn’t going to skip on spending three days with Ram because of a headache. “I promised my grandma. I’m going to visit her after the camp!”

Ram wasn’t convinced. “But you’re injured!”

“I’ll have dinner and then take my medicine and sleep at 8pm and I’ll be fine tomorrow.” He had no idea what time it actually was and he knew that, having needed stitches, he wouldn’t be alright in the morning, but he still had a whole day to heal, didn’t he, before heading off to camp. And that should be enough.

Ram still didn’t seem convinced, so King began eating to show him that he was much better already. He hadn’t expected the soup to be as good as it was and as soon as the first spoon had passed his lips, he began to eat like a starving man.

Ram watched him silently, and when he was done, he carried the tray outside. King used the bathroom, brushed his teeth and made his way back into the bedroom. Ram had fluffed up the pillows and was waiting for him. “Lie down over there, hmm?”

King lay down on the far side of the bed which Ram had indicated and only when he had crawled under the covers, he realised what it meant.

“Are you …?” he pointed at the empty side of the bed. Ram nodded.

King tried to keep his face straight. Ram would sleep next to him, in his bed.

Oh god.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore what the mere notion did to his body. He heard Ram leave the room and then, after a while, he heard the shower go, and he allowed himself to grin at his ceiling for a bit.

He knew Ram was just trying to make sure that he was okay, and he appreciated it to an extent that he couldn’t even fully comprehend, but on a much less logical level, his heart told him that Ram had not only saved him today and gotten him to the hospital, but he had held his hand and, even though he was hurting him, hadn’t let go of him. And he had taken him home and made him dinner and he had shown concern for him by asking him not to go to the camp and now he would spend the night right next to him, fresh out of the shower and …

He forced himself to stop thinking and closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. But before long, he remembered the piggy back ride and the ease with which Ram had carried him. And when he tried to not think of that, he remembered the moment when they had lain so closely together on the lawn under the tree, and Ram had lifted his head and King still felt like he had missed a chance there.

If he had told him then how he felt, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Maybe, just maybe, Ram would have understood and patiently explained to him to him that it wouldn’t change anything between them. Or maybe he would have been upset. Irritated by the fact that King felt the need to unload his own emotional burden on Ram’s shoulders even as he was so upset about his father. Or maybe, just maybe, Ram would have leaned in and kissed him, right there in the park, in front of everyone who would have looked in their direction and he wouldn't have tried to help the dog after all.

He groaned and pulled the duvet closer around himself. This wasn’t helping at all. He ran his thumb along the fingernails of his hand – the hand that had held Ram’s as he was being stitched together again. He couldn’t believe that Ram hadn’t said anything at all about that. He must have been in pain and even now, as he stood in the shower, he would feel it again under the hot water.

King carefully touched his head, wondering how bad the wound actually was. He regretted it instantly, as the pain was back, creeping down his neck and into his jaw. He squeezed his eyes closed and went back to trying to concentrate on his breathing. This time it worked and, as the pain slowly faded, he drifted off.

When he woke up again, he thought his head had grown to twice its size. The pulsating pain he had felt in the hospital was back and he felt feverish. He groaned, trying to shift a little, hoping it would make him feel better. He touched the dressing over his scar, remembering too late that pressure made the pain worse, but he was too weak to take his hand away, trying to breathe through the pain.

He sensed movement next to him, but wasn’t quite ready to open his eyes, fearing that the pain would explode if he did. But then he felt a hand on his arm and then his back, pulling him up a little, and he did look then. Ram pressed a pill into his hand and it took King a moment to understand that is was a painkiller. Then he realised that opening his eyes hadn’t actually made the pain worse and he sat up further, taking a glass of water from Ram that he offered him. The swallowed the pill, realising with a sinking heart that maybe he had underestimated the severity of his injury and that he wouldn’t be as alright in the morning as he had hoped.

Careful not to set off the pain again, he lay back down. “Thank you,” he said, wondering what time it was and why Ram had been so quick with the pill and water. Ram looked tired, but not like he had slept. He looked up at him, noticing for the first time that he was wearing a tank top that allowed him to see his arms and the tattoos on them. While he had noticed the tattoo on his left shoulder during the boxing match, he hadn’t seen it up close yet. He wondered how long it had taken to get it done and how Ram had dealt with the pain.

“When did you start getting tattoos,” he asked, wondering if there was a specific event attached to his decision to get them.

“When I was a high school senior,” Ram answered after a pause long enough to indicate that he wasn’t quite sure anymore. A year ago, then, King thought. One year and so many tattoos already. Did he like the pain? Or did he really like the idea of carrying art on his body? He found himself reaching out to touch the dreamcatcher tattoo that had initially caught his eye. He knew it was the fever that made him brave, but it also made him a little uncoordinated. He didn’t quite manage to just touch it, as he wanted. But growing weak mid-movement, he had to rest his knuckles against Ram’s neck, the tips of his fingers brushing the tattoo.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, and even as he said it, he knew he didn’t just mean the tattoo. Ram was beautiful, inside and out. As he sat there, looking almost shy at being touched by King, his hair framing his face softly, his eyes wide but tired, his lips soft and oh so inviting. It would be so easy to turn his hand and touch his cheek and …

“Why did you get a tattoo with this pattern?” he asked, knowing he couldn’t allow himself to continue his line of thought. Ram hadn’t moved at all since he had touched him, sitting there, looking away, letting it happen. And then he brushed his hand away and King felt guilty for putting him into this position. Ram had given him a painkiller in the middle of the night when he was in pain and King made him feel uncomfortable in return. He hoped he would forgive him, or at least blame it on his fever.

When he answered his question, King was relieved. “It’s a dreamcatcher, used to chase away bad dreams.”

“You had bad dreams?” he asked, wondering if they were part of why he had initially thought that Ram wasn’t necessarily a happy person. He hoped they weren’t.

Ram nodded and King wanted to hug him, even though he was in absolutely no position to do so.

“Did you still have them after getting the tattoo?” he asked, hoping that it had worked. It was such a visible part of Ram, it had to serve a purpose.

Ram seemed to think about his answer for a moment before he nodded again. The urge to somehow comfort Ram grew stronger.

“It’ll be alright,” he said, looking up at him, trying to sound optimistic. “I have bad dreams, too, but everything will be alright when you wake up.” He took Ram’s hand next to him and squeezed it. “Believe me,” he smiled at Ram, who looked down on him as if he was at least willing to try. King moved his hand a little and felt his fingers slip between Ram’s. He would have loved nothing more than to stay like this, their hands touching and their eyes locked, their connection offering comfort to them both, but he knew it was too intimate to be explained away. He pulled his hand back and felt exhaustion overcome him.

While the pain had disappeared, he realised how talking to Ram and worrying about him had depleted his energy and even as he asked about the tattoo on Ram’s shoulder, he felt himself slip back into sleep. He heard Ram’s voice and thought once again how lucky he was that he had started to talk to him, and then he let sleep overcome him.

When he woke up, he was surprised that his head didn’t hurt. He rubbed his face and then turned to look at Ram. All he could see was his hair peeking out as he lay facing away from him with the duvet pulled up above his shoulders. King reached out and stroked his head once before he remembered that he really shouldn’t do that and, with a heavily beating heart, he got up. Being upright hurt a little more, but he wasn’t queasy, which he was very grateful for. He went into the kitchen and drank a glass of water when he heard the dogs scratch at the door.

He sighed, wondering whether he should wake Ram up, but he had taken such good care of him last night that he deserved all the sleep he could get. So King went to Ram’s backpack and, trying hard not to wake him, pulled out the one can of dog food he could find. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would be better than nothing.

He put the contents onto a plate and then went to the spare room. His heart was beating heavily again, but for a different reason, and his head began to hurt when he unlocked the door and carefully pushed it open. Three black noses pushed through the slit in the door and King held back a yelp. He realised that they would be strong enough to just push him out of the way, so he decided to tell them that they shouldn’t. “Sit,” he tried to sound authoritative, and two of the noses disappeared. He sighed. “You, too. Sit. Wait,” he instructed, remembering that Ram had managed to make them wait until they went for their food even as it sat right in front of them. The third nose disappeared and King felt like he had unlocked a superpower.

“Wait,” he said again as he crouched down and opened the door far enough to be able to push the plate inside. Leaning forward hadn’t been such a good idea. His head began to hammer away and he saw stars for a moment. He withdrew his hand and locked the door again, leaning against it for a while until the sparks behind his eyelids had calmed down.

Knowing it hadn’t been the best idea, but proud that he hadn’t panicked while feeding the dogs, he went back into the bedroom. He thought of lying down again, but he was afraid of moving his head too much, so he pulled the duvet around himself and sat up, leaning against the wall, watching the mop of Ram’s hair.

He took his time trying to sort through his feelings. He knew he had been thinking and doing things last night that he shouldn’t have. Ram had been nothing but caring and kind and he needed to make sure than he didn’t frighten him away. And thinking about kissing him every time Ram looked at him wouldn’t help. Maybe he wouldn’t be frightened, but he might lose his trust and his openness and he might stop talking to him again and King did not want to live in a world in which Ram wasn’t talking to him anymore. He exhaled slowly, deliberately, telling himself to stop being so dramatic. Just because he felt a little raw with his emotions running havoc, Ram wouldn’t run away from him.

He sighed, loudly, and Ram stirred. For a few seconds, King sat very still, but then Ram inhaled deeply and turned around, blinking tiredly at him “Morning,” he said, his voice rough and he cleared his throat. King couldn’t help but smile at him and he prayed that he would get to see Ram wake up on a regular basis for a very, very long time. He looked incredibly tired, still, but his expression was relaxed and open and King forgot all about trying not to fantasise about kissing him.

“Morning. I fed the dogs. I think,” he grinned, but a flash of pain made him groan. “I mean, I took some of the food you brought and put it into their room. But then my headache got too bad and I had to come back to bed.”

Ram sat up and rubbed his eyes. “How is it now?”

“Okay, if I don’t move.”

Ram nodded and then climbed off the bed. The sweat pants he had given him rode low on his hips, which were narrower than King’s. When he stretched, King was treated to a lovely view of his naked lower back and cotton clad arse as his tank top rode up when he stretched his arms. He swallowed down an embarrassing noise that had been about to escape him. Ram was just stretching, he reminded himself.

King was glad when Ram finally left the room and he lifted the duvet, staring down at the entirely uncalled for tent in his pyjama bottoms. Then he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, hoping that Ram wouldn’t notice anything.

He heard him rummage around outside and then he heard him talk to the dogs before he disappeared in the shower. “Again?” King asked into the silence of the room, wondering what he had done to be tested in such a way. _He’s just taking a shower. He was exhausted yesterday and the night wasn’t easy, so he’s washing again_ , he told himself. He had just managed to talk himself down when Ram entered the bedroom, only a towel around his hips.

King squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he would blatantly stare if he opened them now. His heart was in his throat and he felt heat pool in his groin again. Fucking hell.

When Ram began to rummage in his backpack for clothes, he couldn’t help but look after all.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Ram asked, and King was taken aback by the fact that he expected him to form any coherent thoughts while he stood in his bedroom, all but naked, his chest still wet and the tattoos on blatant display, including the one that disappeared underneath the edge of the towel. “I’ll take the dogs outside and buy us breakfast,” Ram added, scratching his stomach.

King tried to breathe but found it very difficult, especially since Ram looked at him expectantly.

“Don’t take a painkiller before you’ve eaten,” Ram added and King was confused as to why he might think he would. Then he realised that he probably thought he was in pain and wasn’t answering because of it and he was incredibly relieved that Ram hadn’t realised that he was about to lose his mind at the sight of him.

“Anything,” he finally managed. “I’ll eat what you get.”

Ram smiled at him and King wanted to cry in frustration. Every bit of self-control had gone out of the window just then. “Ok,” Ram said and then left the room and King dropped down on the bed, his headache forgotten for a moment. The notion that, in another life, Ram might have climbed into bed instead of leaving, and maybe losing the towel in the process, wouldn’t leave his mind. He pulled the duvet around himself and pressed one hand between his legs, biting his lip hard enough for the pain to be distracting.

When Ram poked his head into the bedroom, King tried to get a grip. “I’ll take your keys, alright?” Ram asked and he grunted his assent.

“Are you going to be okay?” Ram asked, sounding very concerned, and King wanted to tell him that he wasn’t okay and he wasn’t going to be okay for as long as he remembered Ram’s almost naked body five feet away from him, but he couldn’t possibly let on that anything was the matter. Instead, he grunted again, feeling horribly guilty when Ram chuckled and smiled at him again.

King waited with bated breath until the door to his condo fell closed and then dragged himself into the shower. He tried turning the water to cold, but found that it brought back the headache, so he switched it to hot and let it hit him full force. But even that didn’t help to calm him down. Knowing it was inevitable, and feeling relatively safe in the knowledge that Ram wasn’t in the condo with him, he touched himself, and, once he had started, he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering.

He leaned against the tiles, knowing that if he fell and injured himself further, he would possibly die of embarrassment, and imagined Ram’s hands on his body. He imagined his arms slipping around his back, holding him tightly, his hands flattening against his back and moving down and finally around to take hold of him, and it was enough to push him over the edge.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe through it all, not allowing himself to make a sound, because he couldn’t be entirely sure that Ram hadn’t forgotten something and come back upstairs. Then he stepped under the water again and tried not to feel so bloody guilty about it all. Ram was attractive, there was absolutely no doubt about it. He must have known it, too, working out like he did, with his tattoos accentuating different body parts, all of which King wanted to touch and kiss. And he would never know about this. He was allowed a lone wank in the shower after a near death experience, or, well, something that felt like one, wasn't he?

Maybe it would help to get it out of his system and allow him to be more level headed in Ram’s presence. He also needed to learn to look away. It wasn’t Ram’s fault he had fallen in love with him.

He dried himself off before putting on another t-shirt and track pants and then went back into his bedroom and sat on the bed with his back to the wall again, closing his eyes. He tried to meditate, but found that he couldn’t stop his mind from whirring. Then he tried to name all the flowers he had planted this year, and it helped him to calm down a little.

When he heard Ram return, he felt much more in control, and when he put breakfast before him, he found that he was hungry enough to forget everything else for a moment. When Ram held out a large cup of cold brew to him, he didn’t feel quite as guilty for loving him anymore. Ram deserved to be loved.

He drank deeply and moaned with pleasure, though the temperature of the cold coffee brought back the headache. He realised he had already finished half the cup when he stopped drinking. “Thank you,” he sighed, and winced when a flash of pain shot from his head down his neck.

“Eat something,” Ram said, holding out a bowl to him.

“Feed me,” King suggested, laughing a little to distract from the fact that the thought alone made his spine tingle. “I’m not very coordinated right now.” It wasn’t a lie per se, but he knew he was walking a thin line with his request. Instead of humouring him, Ram put the bowl into his hands.

“Do you really want to go on the trip?” Ram asked, sounding concerned.

King nodded and regretted it instantly. “I’ll be fine. I just need to take the painkiller. You’ll see.”

“Thara said …” Ram tried to argue, but King began eating stubbornly, trying to prove that a little pain and dizziness wouldn’t stop him.

“I’ll be fine,” he simply said again, even though he wasn’t quite as sure as he sounded. Ram gave him a painkiller and then handed him his coffee so he could wash it down. King leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes again, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach that he would never, ever get over him.

“Do you want to sleep some more?” Ram asked, and King wanted to cry.

“No. I don’t know. I don’t want to lie down.” He wasn’t sure if it mattered, really. He just wanted to curl up and wallow in self-pity for a while.

“The couch, then?” Ram suggested and King wondered if he might be brave enough to ask whether he could lean against him, just to have something solid to hold on to. After he had finished the bowl, Ram handed him a second helping and finally began eating, too. King found that the more he ate, the less frayed around the edges he felt. Maybe he wasn’t desperately in love; maybe he had just been hungry? He knew he was lying to himself, but he would find a way to deal with this and if eating helped him feel less all over the place, then he would cling to that strategy like a drowning man to a life-ring.

When they had finished eating, Ram took the bowls back to the kitchen and then returned to help him up. King settled on the couch, feeling a little better being out of the bedroom. Too many memories were floating around there, and here, in the living room, his thoughts returned to Ram’s pain.

“You should call your mum,” he suggested, knowing that Ram wouldn’t appreciate the reminder. Yet, he knew that his own mum would have gone crazy with worry if he had just disappeared and not called her to at least tell her that he was alright.

Ram didn’t answer or move.

“Then tell Duen?” he suggested, and, after a while, Ram sighed and pulled out his phone. He sent off a text and received an answer almost immediately. He sent another text and then got up to wash the dishes. King fell asleep to the soothing sound of water and clanking bowls.

Ram woke him up again and King felt much better. Having been on edge all morning, he felt much more in control of his emotions and his head only hurt when he moved it too quickly. Ram had made lunch and he ate it gladly, taking another painkiller and washing it down with tea.

When Ram settled on the couch next to him to read a book, his knees touching King’s, he felt at peace with the world. Ram hadn’t noticed him being weird, and he wasn’t behaving in any strange way. He sat there, quiet, reading his book, just being himself. King picked up his phone and was relieved to find that looking down at the screen didn’t cause him a headache. Maybe he was on the mend after all. He checked his messages and emails and then watched a couple of YouTube videos, commented on a couple of photos on facebook and updated his Instagram with some old photos of his plants.

He drifted off again a couple of times, but generally felt much better. It had grown dark outside when Ram closed the book. King was impressed, because he had read it front to back, only taking a couple of breaks to make tea and use the bathroom.

When Ram reminded him that they still needed to pack for the trip in the morning, King wondered whether he was really up for travelling. Maybe he should ask Ram to stay here with him and just take more time to recover. But Ram hadn’t seen his friends since he had run away and he knew that it would be important for him to spend time with them. While it was incredibly sweet of him to care for King right now, it wasn’t fair to him.

He rose, still a little unsteady on his legs, and went to the bedroom. Ram followed him. “Can I borrow a t-shirt?” he asked when King opened his wardrobe, and King smiled and selected his favourite shirt. Then he pulled out one of his sweatshirts that he knew was very soft and warm and pressed both into Ram’s hands. “It’s going to be chilly at night,” he told him, and then felt his breath hitch when Ram’s fingers brushed his wrists gently as he took he clothes from him.

“Are you better?” Ram asked, looking closely at King and he hoped that Ram wouldn’t notice the blush that crept into his cheeks.

“Much.” He nodded.

“I’m glad,” Ram said very softly and King wanted to kiss him for it. He settled for staring at him lovingly and was glad when Ram looked away, because he wasn’t sure how he would have managed to do the same.

After King had finished packing his bag, Ram ordered pizza for them and they ate, watching random videos on his computer. Having taken another painkiller, King felt himself get drowsy again and even though he would have loved to fall asleep against his shoulder, he knew he should lie down properly. He was grateful when Ram helped him into the bedroom as his legs weren’t quite up for the task of holding him up anymore. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to feel Ram’s arms around his waist for a little while.

He lay down and sighed deeply. Ram sat on the bed next to him and King fell asleep with a smile on his face, hoping he’d get to see Ram wake up again in the morning.

It was still dark outside when he woke up, wondering whether the fever had returned, because he felt quite warm. It took him a moment to understand that the warmth came from the body he was pressed up against. He blinked tiredly. It was too dark to see properly, but he realised that he had somehow moved from his side of the bed to Ram’s, and that his face had been pressed against his chest. Their feet where tangled and Ram’s hand clasped his own in front of King’s chest while Ram’s right arm hugged him close.

For a moment, King forgot how to breathe. He couldn’t quite believe Ram hadn’t woken up, lying this close to him. He felt his heart beat heavily in his chest, afraid that Ram might wake up any second now. He tried to calm himself down and to lie still, but then he decided that if Ram was hugging him and holding his hand, even subconsciously, then he wasn’t just on him. So he took a few deep breaths and then tried to memorize the feeling of being this close to Ram.

What struck him most was how absolutely safe he felt. While he was afraid that Ram might wake up and they would have to have a very awkward conversation, he felt entirely comfortable, like their bodies were made to lie together like this. He listened to Ram’s deep breaths and found his own breath falling into the same rhythm. Eventually, feeling safe in the knowledge that Ram was fast asleep, he lifted his head and pressed a kiss to his sternum before closing his eyes again. He knew that they would probably have an awkward conversation about the night after all, but for now he just enjoyed the fact that, at least subconsciously, Ram did not seem averse to cuddling.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent yesterday evening reading the comments under the youtube video of this episode and they are a delight. Within the comments, I also found out that itchy, in Thai, can also mean horny, which explains King's awkward reaction to Ram's question and still makes me giggle, because TAKE YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER, King (or actually, don't XD). So yeah, there's that. 
> 
> As mentioned in chapter 11 of Killing me Softly, which is its corresponding chapter, the word "ชอบ" (like) is used in its short form to confirm the like for something or the like (romantically) of someone. So, lots of Thai puns in this episode. 
> 
> While I kept the latter in, I chose not to use the horny reference, but kept in line with what I wrote in Ram's POV (sorry :p) - the connotation that King misunderstands what Ram's question is refering to, instead of being surprised to be asked point blank whether he's horny, on a bus, surrounded by their friends, and King clearly wants to say yes (okay, I am very amused by this, can you tell?!).
> 
> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> (apologies for the typos XD I posted this in a hurry without reading over it this morning. I realise I should have waited haha. Trying to fix them now.)

His phone woke him up and he held it to his ear, unwilling to open his eyes yet, even though it was bright daylight in the bedroom, which confused him a little. “Hello?” he asked, not having checked whose name had appeared on his screen. It was Tee. “Hello! Where are you?” Tee sounded worried and King couldn’t for the life of him think why that would be.

“I’m in my room, why?”

“Come on, are you still sleeping? The bus is going to leave soon! Hurry up!”

And then it all fell into place. He sat up, realising that neither he nor Ram had set an alarm. “Wait for me,” he told Tee, “I’ll be right there! Bye!” Then he hung up and turned to Ram, who was still fast asleep. He hated waking him up, but he knew that they would cause a lot of trouble of they made the bus leave later than intended. 

For the first time, he noticed that Ram lay on the side of the bed on which he had fallen asleep, while he lay in Ram’s place. The curtains were drawn open, too, which they hadn’t been when he had woken up, snuggling up to Ram. 

He felt himself blush and decided that now wasn’t the time to think about any of it. “Hey Ning, the bus is leaving!” he shouted, but Ram still didn’t move. So he pulled Ram up, using his arm, trying to ignore how much he wanted to touch him under different circumstances. “Hey Ning, get up!”

Ram squinted at him, looking like he would drop down again the moment he let go of him. “Are you still dreaming? Go take a shower!”

Ram looked at him, uncomprehending. King wanted to push his hands into his hair and kiss him awake. Instead, he pulled on Ram’s wrist as he tried to get off the bed. “The bus is leaving!” he repeated and finally Ram seemed to understand why King had pulled him out of his sleep. Yet, he didn’t move, but simply stared at him and King wondered if he had just remembered what happened last night. Because clearly he had woken up at some point, switched to the other side of the bed and opened the curtains to let in some air. 

“Quickly, we’ll just shower together. Otherwise we won’t catch the bus!”

He had absolutely no idea why he had made that proposition. There was no way in hell that they would be faster if they showered together. But he couldn’t take the words back now and pulled Ram off the bed and into the bathroom. 

King didn't know how Ram would react, but the fear of missing the bus was real, so he began to undress and then stepped into the shower, noticing Ram brushing his teeth furiously. When King stepped out of the shower, he was busy drying his face with a towel. King almost laughed. Despite King’s utterly ridiculous suggestion, Ram had given him space and had used his time wisely. 

Now he pushed past him and undressed and King tried not to look, but he couldn’t quite stop himself from glancing into the mirror as he brushed his teeth. But by now the mirror was so foggy that he couldn’t quite see anything below Ram’s navel and King cursed himself for being so curious. If he wiped at the mirror now, Ram would undoubtedly notice. He went into his bedroom to get dressed and returned to the bathroom to check on his wound in the mirror. He watched through the increasingly foggy mirror as Ram towelled himself off and the wrapped the towel around his waist, stepping out of the shower. Only when their eyes met in the mirror, King realised that Ram had caught him staring. He tried to look away, but inevitably his eyes were drawn to the tattoo on his chest. 

“I’ll tell you about them later,” Ram said and King felt himself blush once again. Thankfully, Ram left to get dressed. King exhaled slowly and then went to call his sister, telling her to pick up the dogs and take them to Duen’s family. 

When Ram appeared, his hands twisting his hair into shape, he told him that she would take care of the dogs and Ram nodded and smiled at him. He was relieved that Ram didn't seem to have noticed how fidgety he was this morning. He still looked like he would rather go back to bed and King couldn’t blame him. He was only awake because of the repeated bouts of adrenaline that rushed through his system. 

King checked that the windows were closed and that he had his phone, and then returned to Ram with his bag in hand. “Come,” he said, unnecessarily, just when Ram picked up his backpack, and he took his wrist and pulled him out of the flat. Somehow, his hand refused to let go of Ram and, since he didn’t seem to mind, King continued to pull him along the sidewalk until he managed to flag down a cab. He let go of him only after it had stopped by the curb. 

As they sat down, Ram looked at him, his expression open, and King was very grateful for that. “How is your head?” Ram asked, surprising King. “Hmm?” he asked, wondering why he hadn’t thought of his injury once since waking up. “Oh,” he touched his head gingerly. “I feel much better. I think the medicine helped. And sleep.”

 _And lying in your arms_ , his brain provided unhelpfully. 

When they reached the bus, King was glad to see that they weren’t the last ones. He paid the taxi driver and picked up his bag. Ram walked behind him, as if he was suddenly uncertain whether he should even be here. King wondered what his friends would say and he hoped they wouldn’t be too upset with his disappearing act. 

“Here I am,” he announced to Tee, who held the bus microphone in his hands, apparently trying to find an excuse to wait for another minute. Boss called out excitedly and King grinned. But then he heard Ting Ting call out for Ram and he knew they had made the right decision. They were glad to see him. 

“What took you so long?” Tee asked and then turned to the driver, telling him to start the bus. When he looked back at King, he noticed the wound. “What happened to your head?” he asked, and King wasn’t sure why, but he lied. “Last night I hit my head on the corner of a table,” he explained. He saw that Thara was on the bus, but he wasn’t paying attention, looking at Frong, who seemed a little intimidated by him. 

Tee didn’t seem quite satisfied with his answer, and looked down on Ram who stood behind him on the narrow staircase. “You two came together?” Tee noted with a smirk. “Were you two together last night?”

King knew he couldn’t possibly tell him that Ram was staying with him now. Tee would twist the words in his mouth and the trip would be terribly uncomfortable with his friends teasing him. And he did not want to draw Ram into it either. “No,” he lied. “I just ran into him outside the bus.”

“Really?” Ting Ting asked from further ahead, innuendo clear in her voice. He wondered whether Duen had guessed where Ram had ended up and told his friends. Then he remembered that Boss and Mek had seen them in the park before the accident and he felt his neck grow hot. Yet, King was surprised to see all of their friends smile at her suggestion and for a second, he wondered whether they would actually support him and Ram being together. The thought made him happy, but terrified him in equal parts. He couldn't allow himself to go there. 

When Tee asked Ram whether it was true, and King asked him to affirm it, he nodded, looking a little panicked. 

“Fine. I will pretend that I believe you,” Tee said benevolently. “Go sit over there, I kept seats free for you.”

He let Ram go first, imagining that he wanted to sit by the window again, like he had on the bus on that rainy Saturday. Duen, Ting Ting, Phu and Tang seemed truly happy to see him and King was glad that his worry had been unnecessary. He did not miss Bohn’s telling glance, though, and wondered what Boss had told him. 

When the bus left, everyone cheered, and King, trying to forget about his embarrassment, cheered the loudest. He regretted it a little when he felt his headache return, but decided that it wouldn’t stop him from enjoying this trip. 

Ram had pulled out his ear buds and he wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t expecting him to talk to him much anyway, with all of their friends around. When Ram pulled them out again and sighed in frustration, King knew he had ran out of battery. Ram hadn’t charged his phone last night and the bus didn’t have outlets. Ram was always so eager to make sure to return a favour that it seemed like the perfect moment to repay his kindness. 

He quickly put in his left ear bud, started the music on his phone, and then placed the other one in Ram’s ear. It was his favourite song again, even though it wasn’t raining and he didn’t feel all that lonely anymore. Well, a different kind of lonely, maybe. 

The surprised expression on Ram’s face was priceless and King was glad he had taken such a bold step. “Ran out of battery?” he asked, and Ram nodded, looking at him. It was strange, being so close to him with so many people around. He had gotten used to have him all to himself. 

“We’re even now,” he explained. “Last time you gave me yours.” He had not expected Ram to smile at him. 

“You smile,” he said gently. “That means you like it.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling happy to have made Ram smile. 

“I like it,” Ram said, but he used the short form and King’s brain immediately substituted his intended meaning with an _I like you_. He stared at Ram, whose eyes still held his smile, and who turned away, looking out of the window, his expression unchanged. He looked contented. 

King had tried to get Ram to say it to him on the day after the boxing match, when he was both frustrated and amazed with Ram’s silly echoed response. Back then, he had just wanted to hear him say it for the sake of it, but now it broke his heart, because he wanted Ram to mean it – to mean him – so much that he couldn’t quite handle the fact that it didn’t. He liked the music, he told himself. Just the music. You asked him about the music.

King wanted to cry. 

To make matters worse, a sharp flash of pain shot through his head and when he touched his wound, he felt the healing scar beginning to itch. He tried to scratch the skin around the scar a little, hoping the itch would stop, but it didn’t really help. He couldn’t quite believe how only a few seconds had turned his good mood into misery. 

“Does it bother you?” Ram asked and King wondered how much of his emotional breakdown Ram had just witnessed. 

“What? Why do you ask?” he shot back, his voice much angrier than he had meant for it to sound. Had Ram really just asked him if he minded it that he had told him he liked him? Or not? Because he hadn’t, had he? But why else would he ask? King was completely overwhelmed. They couldn’t have this conversation on the bus, not like this. Not when he was this close to either having a panic attack or kissing Ram until he knew the truth. “That sounded weird,” he added and Ram looked at him as if he had just said something incredibly silly. “I meant your stitches,” he clarified and King wanted to die of embarrassment. 

“I know,” King lied, wanting the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He needed to get a grip fast. This was not how he had imagined the bus ride to go and he did not want to make Ram feel uncomfortable. “Yes, it is a bit itchy around the stitches,” he admitted, pointing to the part of his scalp that itched the most. 

He had not expected Ram to turn towards him and to carefully push his hair out of the way to check on the scar. Everyone on the bus would see and Ram didn’t seem to think twice about touching him like this. And then their eyes met and King couldn’t look away, Ram’s hand still in his hair, and King vividly remembered how good it had felt to lie so close to Ram, and he knew he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t stand Ram’s gentle eyes looking back at him like this anymore. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t not kiss him. 

Panicked, he brushed his hand away. “Let’s listen to music again,” he said, avoiding Ram’s eyes. Ram sat back slowly, and King felt horrible. He needed to set up rules for himself. He couldn’t continue to make decisions and then just completely ignore them once he needed to actually stick to them. He glanced at Ram, who looked outside, his usual calm expression on his face. 

This was it. Ram was just being Ram. He had talked to him because he was talking to him now in general, and he did not seem to care that his friends might notice the change. And he touched him, because they had touched quite a bit recently, as a natural progression of their friendship. King touched his friends all the time, and he had seen Ram touch Duen and Phu a lot. The only difference was that he was attracted to him and craved his touch beyond everything else, but it didn’t mean that there was a difference to Ram. 

Ram had gone above and beyond caring for him after the attack and the fact that they had cuddled last night without intending to was doubtlessly a side effect of a couple of emotionally draining days. Ram was deeply hurt by his father’s betrayal and had unconsciously sought out the one person who would hold him and offer him comfort. But that was all and he couldn’t risk adding to Ram’s hurt. 

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the music. His playlist was fairly random, but there were a few songs that he really liked. When The Fugees’ “Killing Me Softly” came on, he listened to the lyrics properly for the first time in his life. And every verse seemed to reflect how he had felt recently. Especially now, on the bus, surrounded by their friends, Ram had been talking to him and touching him and all he could do was let it happen, trying not to read too much into it. 

He swallowed hard and then turned towards Ram, needing distraction from the burning feeling in his stomach. “Ning, I don’t understand what she’s singing. Can you translate it for me?” But Ram frowned and King was certain that it was his fault. Ram couldn’t not have noticed his strange behaviour and now he was asking him about a silly song that Ram probably knew he understood perfectly well. But now he had asked and Ram appeared to humour him despite it all. 

“She fancies a musician,” Ram shrugged. “She goes to a concert and he sings for her. No, that’s not right. Not for her. He just sings a song that she feels is about her.”

King had plucked the bud from his ear to be able to hear Ram’s voice clearly. “But why ‘killing’? Why ‘softly’?” What a stupid question to ask. He knew exactly what it meant. He was going through the exact emotion right in this moment. But he held on to the thought that they were having a normal conversation. 

“It’s just a saying,” Ram shrugged again. “The song doesn’t make a lot of sense,” he added and then leaned back and closed his eyes. 

“Okay,” King said and put the ear bud back in. He realised that he had hoped that Ram would explain the romantic notion behind the song. The longing for someone unreachable. If he had talked about that, maybe, just maybe, King could have come back to it at a later point, when he felt safe with him and they were alone, and he might be able to confess what he felt for him and hope that Ram would understand. And now he felt like Ram hadn’t even tried to understand the underlying emotional conflict of the song. He sighed and took a painkiller before he drifted off, letting the bus's movement lull him to sleep. 

He woke up when the bus came to a halt and as he opened his eyes, Ram’s face was right there, mere inches from his own, his eyes bright and his lips stretched into a small smile. King felt it like a punch to the gut. If anyone would have walked past him and pushed against his shoulder, he would have fallen against Ram’s lips. 

King shot upright, feeling his heart beat so heavily in his chest that he feared that Ram could see it through his shirt. “We’re here,” he announced, grabbed his bag and fled the bus, knowing that he needed to put some distance between himself and Ram before making a terrible mistake.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter corresponds to chapter 12 of Killing me Softly

He tried to ignore how idiotically he had behaved and followed the others to the camp’s headquarters. It would be fine. He would just stay away from Ram for a bit until his body had caught up with his brain and all would be well. 

When Ram fell into step with him, he was surprised that he couldn’t help but be relieved. Somehow, despite everything, Ram still wanted to be close to him. And while the reason probably lay with his worry for his injury, with Ram still being the only person besides Thara to know what had happened, he was glad to find that he wasn’t avoiding him, now that he had the chance. He also berated himself for being so happy about it. 

His foot caught in a root and, for a second, he was sure he would fall. He had just enough time to curse his own clumsiness when his arm was pulled back forcefully, keeping him from falling. 

Ram held him, safely, even if the sudden movement had hurt a little. King remembered the moment Ram had saved him from falling during their preparations for the camp and he wondered if Ram thought he was just incredibly clumsy and spent most of his time worrying about him falling. Well, he was clumsy, wasn’t he? 

Their eyes met, but Ram didn’t seem particularly annoyed, nor did he seem amused. He had simply done what he always did. He was there to make sure King was safe and he felt incredibly inadequate for a moment. 

“I’m fine,” he explained and pulled his arm out of Ram’s grasp. “I just slipped.” Only after he had turned around and walked ahead, he realised that he should have thanked him. 

They met with their friends and hung around the camp for a bit, unpacking and putting up tents, and when they decided to go to the waterfall, King walked with them, but then slowed down a little, letting the others walk ahead. He had wanted to see if Ram would go with his group of friends, but even though he had been jogging along Phu for a bit, he stopped and waited, and then stayed with him. 

King gave him a questioning look, and something in Ram’s expression changed. He grew pale and turned away from him for a moment, and King wondered whether he had eaten something bad. Since he had slept during most of the bus ride, he hadn’t seen what Ram had eaten. But when he straightened again and continued to walk, King did not dare to ask. Maybe it wasn't his stomach, but he was thinking about his father, and he didn’t want to remind him of him, in case it wasn’t. 

They came across Tang and Ting Ting, as she was posing for photos for her Instagram account, and King was glad when they didn’t comment on them being alone together. They simply fell into step with them and chatted a bit. When they reached the waterfall with its several cascading ponds, Ram’s friends continued on, wanting to take more pictures on the other side of the water. 

King took off his shoes. He couldn’t wait to get into the water. It was colder than he had imagined, but the shock of it helped him to focus on something other than worrying about Ram. He was glad that he followed him into the water, even if he stayed at the edge of the pond. He kept looking at the plants that grew there and King wondered whether Ram had become interested in the flora of the place. The thought made him happy. 

When he began splashing around a bit, Ram cleared his throat in a clear warning. King looked up and found Ram looking at him with an expression that King only knew from his father. It amused him to see it on Ram, because Ram was younger than him and had nothing in common with his father. But the message was clear.

“I know!” he complained half-heartedly. “I need to be careful with the stitches on my head. The water isn’t deep. There’s nothing to worry about.”

He could see that Ram wasn’t convinced, but he turned away eventually, focusing on one of the bushes that was overhanging the water. King splashed around a bit more until an interesting twig caught his eye. It was floating past him and he picked it up, studying it. He realised that it was probably the same plant that Ram was looking at, and he wanted to check, making his way through the water to the bank. As he waded, he suddenly lost his footing when she stepped on something slippery. 

For a second, he didn’t understand why the fall hurt his head, because he had fallen in the water, hadn’t he? But even as he regained control of his limbs and pushed himself above the surface, he realised that he must have hit his head on the single rock that was peeking out of the water. He hadn’t hit his head hard and not in his injured side, but apparently enough to cause his cut to start hurting again. 

A second later, Ram pulled him up and held him above the surface even though he was perectly safe, and King knew he was in trouble. “I was already careful, but the ground is slippery here,” he tried to defend himself, plucking leaves out of his hair. Ram did not let him go, but took hold of his wrist with an iron grip and pulled him away from the rock. 

“I’m fine, really,” King tried to protest, but he knew that Ram was done being patient with him. He tried to pull his arm out of Ram’s hand, but realised he had absolutely no chance. Ram was incredibly strong and he simply pulled him along with him. “Hey, am I not allowed to play anymore?” King complained, and Ram stopped and simply stared at him and suddenly King knew how Ram managed to calm down wildly barking dogs. He felt himself shrink a little. “Can’t I?” he asked, sounding intimidated even to his own ears. 

When Ram started pulling again, he did not resist. Instead he allowed himself to look at Ram’s body, because his sweatshirt had soaked through and was now clinging to him, accentuating the curves of his shoulders and lower back. 

When Ram pulled him up the small concrete dam, King once again realised how strong Ram was, and how he wouldn’t be able to pull his wrist from his grasp no matter what he’d try. The thought sent a flash of heat down his spine that made him gasp, but thankfully it coincided with the exact moment in which Ram let go of him. He rubbed his wrist, pretending that Ram had hurt him. 

When Ram looked at his chest with interest, King felt heat crawl up his neck. While he had been intensely aware of Ram’s wet sweatshirt, he realised that his own shirt clung to him, too. Just when King began to wonder what he was doing, he crouched down behind him and ran his hands from his shoulders all the way down to the small of his back. While the touch was gentle, it was also obvious that he was checking for injuries, and, for a moment, King considered pretending that something was hurting, so Ram would have to check again. But he abandoned his plan when he felt his body react in a completely uncalled for way, despite of how cold his clothes were against his skin. 

He was honestly relieved when Ram told him to stay where he was and walked away. He closed his eyes and waited until his breathing had calmed down. Then he carefully touched the wound on his head. The bandage was still in place but soaked through, and there was no blood on his fingers when he pulled them away. Then he stared at the water, once more torn about his feelings for Ram. He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed being watched this closely, because it meant that he was important to Ram. It also meant that Ram spent a lot of time with him, while he should probably hang out with his friends for a bit. He did not want to be the reason Ram was worried when he could enjoy his time here with his best friends. And yet … he rubbed his wrist again, ignoring the heat that pooled in his belly. 

He inhaled deeply and let go of his breath, deciding that he would just play it by ear. He listened to the unfamiliar sounds and then concentrated on the smell of wet earth and plants. It was a beautiful spot they had chosen for the trip and he was glad that he had come. 

But then his head began to hurt again, and not just his scar, but also the spot he had hit on the rock in the water and he cursed himself for being so clumsy. 

When he felt something being placed on his head, he looked up, expecting it to be a hat of sorts. Ram sat down next to him without a word, but he looked a tiny bit pround. “What is it?” King asked and then carefully took the structure off his head. It was a wreath, braided out of flowers, twigs and grass, not unlike the wreaths he had used to make with his grandma for himself and his sisters. He looked at Ram in amazement, his heart picking up speed. “Did you make this?” he asked, and when Ram nodded, he felt some of the doubt he had had about his presence fall away. It was one thing to be around him because he was worried for his well-being, and an entirely different thing to braid him a flower-wreath. 

“Thank you!” He placed it back on his head, and looked at Ram, whose eyes were bright with that private smile of his. 

“How do I look?” King asked, and the smile reached Ram’s lips and King’s heart melted at the sight. He grinned at Ram and then tried to pull on a few strands of wet hair, wishing he had a mirror to see how it looked. 

Just then, Ting Ting and Tang returned from their quest for the perfect photo opportunity. “Can you take a picture of me?” he asked Ting Ting, glad that Ram’s friends had chosen to walk by just then. “I want to know what I look like wearing this,” he explained.

“It’s so cute,” Ting Ting smiled. “Did you make it yourself?”

“A very kind person gave it to me,” King answered, aware of how close he had come to saying something even more revealing. 

“Ram, move, I’m taking a picture of him,” Ting Ting directed him, but King wouldn't have it. No, if anything, Ram needed to be in the picture with him. “It’s fine,” he patted Ram’s leg just as he was about to rise. “Take a picture of us together.”

“Okay,” Ting Ting got into position and then counted down from three. King was torn between wanting to smile like an idiot and trying to look cool, but when Ting Ting handed him her phone for him to check, he found that he just looked contented and he was surprised by that, considering his internal turmoil. Ram had done a victory pose and simply looked cool. Bastard, King thought lovingly. “That looks good! Send it to me, please?”

Ting Ting made a joke about wanting money for it and then her and Tang crossed the ledge behind them to get to the other side of the waterfall again. As they walked by, Tang, who had been looking at the photo, suddenly remarked that he thought that Ram and he looked very cute together. Like a couple. 

King felt his heart stop, until Ting Ting told Tang off for having voiced his thought out loud. King looked at them in surprise and found Ting Ting smile knowingly. She looked like she agreed with Tang.

It was silly, really. Just a comment by two freshmen who didn’t know better. Nevertheless, he looked at Ram, needing to see his reaction. He had expected him to frown, too, but he wore a half smile, as if he was slightly amused by the thought. And then Ram looked back at him, and the smile was still there, and now it didn’t look amused as much as … happy. 

King was certain Ram would be able to see his pulse race and he had to look away again, unable to stand Ram’s eyes on him like this. He looked too much like King imagined he would look at him if he returned his feelings and he couldn’t allow himself to go there in his mind. 

He needed to say something to distract himself. “It’s fun here,” he said, not being able to think of anything else. “The weather is nice, and you can forget about your father for a while.”

Even as the words left his mouth, he realised the mistake he was making. When he glanced at Ram, already knowing he had hurt him, he wanted to kick himself. Ram’s smile had given way to an expression that broke his heart. He was an utter idiot for reminding him just when he had forgotten about his pain for a bit. 

“I upset you, didn’t I?” he asked, knowing it was true but unable to take back the words. 

Ram raised his eyes to look at him and King felt panic rise in him. He squeezed his leg, trying to make him see how much he regretted bringing it up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, feeling a heavy weight settle in his stomach when Ram got up and walked away. 

He had thought that he was good at comforting Ram, but now that he was so busy tiptoeing around his own feelings, he had simply forgotten that Ram’s problems were much bigger than his own. He stared ahead, the beauty of the place suddenly diminished by Ram’s sadness and his own anger at himself.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter corresponds to chapter 13 of Killing me Softly. Only one more chapter to go, I guess, before I wrap this up!  
> Thank you for reading and a huge big fat thank you to those of you who wrote comments <3

King was unhappy for the rest of the evening. He saw Ram spend time with Duen and he wanted to be happy about it, but he was certain that whatever happiness Ram had felt as they had sat by the water had been swept away by his idiotic comment. And Duen seemed unhappy, too, though King couldn’t find Bohn to ask him about it. So he hung out with Mek and Boss until they were advised to go to bed in order to be up bright and early to the reforestation project in the morning. 

When he came to find Tee, with whom he was supposed to share a tent, and found out that Tee would share one with Bohn instead, he realised that something severe must have happened between Bohn and Duen. “But that means I have to sleep by myself,” he complained to Tee, who did not seem particularly sympathetic. He couldn’t know that the prospect of lying alone in a tent after spending two nights in such close proximity to Ram made him sad. At least, if he had someone to talk to, he might be able to think of something else. “I don’t want to sleep alone, it’s lonely,” he reiterated, knowing already that it was useless to argue with Tee about it. 

Then his eyes fell on Ram, who stood a few yards away with Tang and Duen, looking back at him as if King was the only person there. He felt rooted to the spot, unable to move, wondering if he was losing his mind or if Ram was really looking at him like that. He looked … hopeful? And then he realised that, because of Bohn and Duen’s fight or whatever it was that had happened between them, Duen had probably taken up Ram’s place in a tent and he did not have anyone to share one with either. 

All Ram did was to silently ask whether they could share a tent, King berated himself. Now that he knew, he was certain, but his heartbeat still felt a little off rhythm when he nodded. Did Ram really want to spend the night with him, even though he had reminded him of his father? 

He turned around and left Tee without a word. When he checked, he saw that Ram was following him, but kept a safe distance. He inhaled deeply, his stomach in knots about earlier, but happy that Ram, of all people, would be staying with him tonight. 

“Here is our tent,” he told Ram and unzipped the door, stepping inside. For a moment, he hoped that Ram would just come in, but he was too polite, wasn’t he? He turned around and opened the flap of the door, finding himself face to face with Ram, who had crouched down, apparently trying to come inside after all. And they both froze, looking at each other as if neither of them knew how to proceed.

King knew he couldn’t not say anything. Not when he had taken the joy out of Ram’s day. “Hey, Ning,” he started, not quite knowing how to apologise. “What happened this evening …,” he looked away, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to mention your dad. Did I upset you?”

Ram lowered his eyes and King wondered whether mentioning it again had only made it worse, but then he looked up again and their eyes met and Ram did not look upset. “It’s okay. I know you meant well,” he said, and King felt relief flood him. He didn’t know what he would have done if Ram would have become sad again. His heart couldn’t take another night of Ram crying in his arms. 

“Thank you,” he said, fighting the urge to reach out and touch Ram’s hair, and Ram made it harder by just staying where he was, looking up at him with that open expression that was still so new to King that he didn’t quite know what he had done to deserve to be looked at like that. 

“Okay, let’s sleep,” he proposed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stand his gaze for another second. “We have to get up early to plant trees! Come in!” He moved out of the way so Ram could enter the tent and zipped up the door behind him. 

And then it was just the two of them again, and King realised that the tent, despite being quite small, was still much too large. He lay down on his mat, wishing they had stayed at home. Ram was several feet away from him, but the distance seemed much, much greater. He exhaled his disappointment and closed his eyes. At least he wasn’t sleeping alone. 

When he woke up, he was almost blinded by pain. He tried to sit up, his ears ringing as he began searching for his painkillers in his bag, only to find that he had taken the last one on the bus. How could he have been so careless not to check on his medication? He cursed himself and then turned around to find Ram fast asleep, his back to him, as if he was trying to put distance between the two. King shook his head. He was being stupid. Ram was simply sleeping, and he would not wake him up if he could help it. He had caused him enough trouble during the last two nights. 

He would go to the HQ hut and find help there. They had to have a first aid kit of sorts and medication, wouldn’t they? As he climbed out of the tent, he wondered whether he was making a mistake, but then he was on his feet and found the path to the HQ buildings, and once he was on his way, he just tried to put one foot in front of the other. His vision blurry and his head aching as if someone had hit him again, he made slow progress, but at least he had a goal. 

When he reached the hut, which held the first aid station, he wondered why there was no light on inside. It was the last thought he had before his legs gave out. 

He drifted in and out of consciousness, confused for a moment that Ram was there with him, calling his name. And then his arms were around him and he felt the ground sway and a strange pressure against his chest made it hard to breathe. And then he could breathe again, but his entire body began aching instead. 

Even though the touch hurt, he was glad to feel Ram’s hand on his wrist and then his throat and when he tried to open his eyes, Ram’s face was very, very close to his own. But he did not kiss him, as he had expected. Or hoped? Or dreamed? Then his head was gone and he felt hot and cold at the same time and just decided to never, ever move again in his life. 

He felt himself resurface at a cool touch against his forehead. He inhaled deeply, feeling like he hadn’t been breathing properly in a while, and the oxygen woke him up, making him feel much better all of the sudden. He knew immediately that he ran a fever, and it took him a moment to remember that he had been entirely submerged in murky pond water earlier that day. And he had hit his head again. Ram had been right; he should have been more careful. 

King opened his eyes and found Ram sitting next to him, looking down with a worried expression, and he immediately felt guilty for keeping him up once again. “I’m sorry,” he tried. “I think when we were at the waterfall and I bumped my head, the wound got infected and I got a fever.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ram demanded and King hated how disappointed he sounded. But then he pulled him into a sitting position and handed him a bottle of water. He realised he had already taken off the cap already, and the small, kind gesture made King want to cry. He was exhausted beyond belief and he knew it would take very little to tip him over the edge. 

“I’m sorry, I did not want to bother you,” King tried, but he could tell from Ram’s expression that it wasn’t an acceptable excuse. Ram pulled out a pill bottle and handed him a painkiller, and King realised that Ram had brought some, just in case. He swallowed against the tightness in his throat that threatened to choke him. He did not deserve Ram. 

When he felt like he could breathe again, he swallowed the pill, hating how emotionally unstable he was due to the pain and the fever. He did not want to start crying in front of Ram now, because it would only make things worse and he couldn’t possibly explain why he was crying. 

He managed a “thank you” as he lay down, trying to tell himself that once the painkiller would start kicking in, he would feel better. But even as he lay there, the fever made him shiver, and he hugged his arms around his chest, trying to find warmth. He knew he could put on a sweatshirt, but the thought of moving again seemed too much of an effort. 

The gentle touch of Ram’s fingers against his forehead drove tears into his eyes despite his best effort not to cry. 

“You’ve got a fever,” Ram said gently. “Are you cold?”

King couldn’t open his eyes, afraid Ram would notice his tears. “A little,” he admitted, praying that he would fall asleep quickly. He was relieved when he heard Ram move. It meant he would finally lie down and get some sleep, too.

His heart stopped when he felt Ram’s arm settle on top of his own. His eyes flew open, his tears forgotten. Ram lay right there, just inches from him, close enough to feel his breath on his face, his arm across King’s chest while he used the other to cushion his head. And when he looked into his eyes, Ram looked back at him, calmly, as if what they were doing was completely normal.

 _“I love you,”_ he thought. _“God, I love you!”_

“Hey Ning,” he started, but then bit back the words that threatened to tumble from his lips and which would make everything so much harder to bear. He clenched his jaw, unable to say anything else that would explain why he had started to speak in the first place and he felt panic rise in his chest.

“I’m better now,” he said, surprising himself as he plucked Ram’s arm from his chest, hating how cold he felt in its absence. “Thank you,” he added, knowing that being polite now wouldn’t quite make up for his rudeness. “You can sleep,” he added. Ram needed sleep. He was the reason why Ram was awake in the middle of the night yet again, and he couldn’t be responsible for Ram not getting enough rest when he was exhausted and upset about his family and here on this trip to spend time with his friends away from home, and all he did was take care of King and it needed to stop. All of it. 

He was relieved when Ram moved away and lay down at a safe distance from him. “Hey Ning, you don’t have to take care of me tomorrow. You should be with your friends. I’ll be with my friends, too. You came with your friends, so you should spend time with them.”

While he hated the thought of not being with Ram, he knew he should have given him space much earlier. And maybe, if Ram stayed away and could focus on his friends and forget about his worries for a while, it would be easier for King, too. It was cowardice to push Ram away, but after what he had just done, he was certain that an endearment would slip out sooner rather than later and he simply couldn’t risk that.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooof, so that's it. This story was with me for the last 7 weeks (and it kept me sane while the world was and is falling apart) and I am so grateful for the distraction.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who read this story and left kudos! A huge big fat thank you to Mazarin221b, cynical_ravenclaw, PmLee and Luxchan71ce for your comments and encouragement and for squeeing with me here and elsewhere. 
> 
> So, here it is, the final chapter in the series, from King's POV. This chapter corresponds to chapter 14 of Killing me Softly.  
> Thank you for reading! <3

When he woke up, Ram had already left the tent. King stared at the roof of the tent, trying to understand why he felt so utterly miserable. He touched his head and found that it didn’t hurt as much as he had expected. Then he put his wrist against his forehead, finding the fever gone, too. And yet, he still felt ready to throw up. 

Sitting up, the world was spinning a little, but after he stole another sip from Ram’s water bottle, he felt much better. He pulled fresh clothes and a towel out of his bag, realising that Ram must have taken the toiletries bag with him. King shuffled over to the showers, meeting Thara who was clearly looking for something on the ground around the showers. He decided to not ask him for painkillers unless he was certain he’d need some. 

Just as he came into the shower hut, Ram stepped out of a cubicle, a towel wrapped around his hips and his hair all over the place. King thought he was about to have a small heart attack, so he quickly walked past him, trying not to stare. God, he was gorgeous. 

“How is your head?” Ram asked, and King stopped. He couldn’t turn around now. Absolutely not. 

“Fine,” he said and then locked himself in the nearest cubicle, leaning back against the door and hiding his face behind his hands. God, he couldn’t start blushing furiously whenever he saw Ram in a state of undress. 

He showered quickly, using the soap that the camp had provided instead of his own, which he hadn’t taken from Ram, and got dressed and then went to find Boss and Mek to have breakfast with. He saw Bohn and Tee talk, but when he tried to talk to Bohn, he couldn’t find him anywhere again. He saw Ram sit with Ting Ting and Duen, and they all looked very serious. He wondered if Ram was currently planning on doing good on his threat from after the boxing match, but he did not look angry enough for that. 

When they left for the tree-planting, he stayed back a little on purpose, trying to keep his steps even in order not to risk another headache. He chatted with some people he had never met, and took some pictures of plants he was unfamiliar with. And every now and then he watched Ram walk up ahead of him. He hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, and King had to remind himself that this wasn’t unusual. Just because Ram had talked to him a lot recently, it did not mean that he talked to others. And yet, he was a little disconcerted that he did not even talk to Duen or Phu. 

When they arrived at the plateau, King made sure to drink some water before he began looking for the best place to plant his first tree. When he found a particularly dry place, he began digging. It was hard work and he began to regret it a little when his head began to ache, but he kept at it, knowing that a tree in this particular spot would do the most good. 

When a flash of pain forced him to stop, he straightened a little, only to find Ram looking at him, his worry clearly written on his face. He tried to ignore the small spark of happiness that came with the realisation that Ram was still paying attention to him, even after he had told him that he did not need to take care of him anymore. But when Ram looked away, he realised that Ram was taking his words to heart. Good. At least Duen seemed truly happy to be digging away at the dry earth between them. That was, until Bohn approached him and Duen just walked away without a word. King watched him join another group, glancing at Bohn almost as if he was warning him not to approach him. 

And Bohn’s face told King all he needed to know. When Bohn walked over to him, he finally had the chance to ask. “Are you and Duen fighting?”

“Not really,” Bohn said, but King could tell that he was out of his depth and that worried him. Bohn seemed to have no idea what he had done wrong. Bohn, the one person he knew who would tease everyone mercilessly and then pretend that he had done nothing wrong, really didn’t know why Duen was avoiding him.

“Really?” King asked. “He just looked you straight in the eye and walked away.”

“Maybe he still thinks I’m angry with him, so that’s why he’s ignoring me?” 

King couldn’t help but sympathise. It was exactly how he had felt last night. He looked at Ram, who, ironically, looked at him in exactly the same moment. His frown worried King. Maybe Bohn was in more trouble than he realised. 

King began digging again and was glad to find that, throughout the morning, his headache slowly faded. He was quite happy with the number of saplings he had put down and watered. The locals would install a proper watering system so that the trees could take root and grow, and, after a couple of years, when their roots were deep enough, they would pull water up to the surface and allow other plants to grow underneath them. 

He called his grandmother to tell her about it on the way back and she told him that she was looking forward to seeing him so soon. When she asked him whether he would be bringing anyone alone, he almost fell over his own two feet. “No, grandma. I’m coming alone.”

“So, there’s no one?”

“Grandma!”

“I talked to Kumfah yesterday, and she told me she had just picked up three very large dogs from your apartment.”

King sighed. “They belong to my friend. He stayed with me for a couple of days because he did not have anywhere else to go and he had to bring his dogs, too.”

“But you are so scared of dogs.”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure he’s just a friend?”

“I have to go. We’re having lunch,” King tried to wrap up the call.

“Tell me about him when you come, hmm?”

“I love you. Bye.”

He hung up before she could say anything else and then joined his friends, hoping that his embarrassment wasn’t written clearly on his face anymore. 

Once they returned to camp and had washed the dirt away, people got into line to have lunch and they sat scattered around, eating and enjoying that they had already gotten so much work done. He took Bohn to the side to remind him that he needed to sort out whatever it was that going on between them, and Bohn seemed ready to take his advice for once. But then word spread that Duen had not returned to camp with everyone else and King's eyes immediately searched for Ram. He looked crestfallen. 

Rangers showed up and formed a search party with volunteers and King joined them, alongside with most of Duen’s and his own friends and a couple of others. They would find him, he was sure of it. He hoped that Ram felt as confident. He couldn’t imagine how worried he must have been, especially considering how he had explained to Bohn weeks ago that Duen was allergic to all kinds of things. 

His optimism faded somewhat when it had grown too dark to continue the search, and they returned to camp only to have Tee tell them that Bohn had just run off. Well, King thought, at least he was finally doing what a boyfriend would do. He felt horrible for thinking badly of his best friend, but he was fairly sure that he had severely misjudged Duen’s reasons for avoiding him. They should have honestly talked about whatever was happening between them, because clearly, communication wasn’t their strong suit. 

He looked up and met Ram’s eyes, nodding at him to encourage him not to lose hope. Then he realised that he and Ram weren't quite alright either, but that he couldn't possibly have an honest conversation about it with him. Thankfully, Duen and Bohn appeared not long after, holding hands and looking like nothing was wrong and he was distracted enough to forget about Ram for a bit. They looked bashful and happy and … definitely together again. 

King went to get dinner and then sat with Bohn and Duen for a while, listening to them bickering, but it was different than before, especially considering the fact that they were holding hands the entire time. He tried hard to not get jealous and failed. Would Ram even let him hold his hand if they were together? He did not seem to be a person who showed affection in public, but then again he had checked on his wound in the bus, being so close to him and so gentle that it almost counted. 

And then he witnessed Boss's declatation of love to Mek and he wondered what he was doing wrong. His friends all seemed to have managed to sort things out and find clarity, while he felt more insecure about his friendship with Ram than ever before. 

He lay down carefully in the grass, a little away from the camp, looking up at the stars, trying to ignore the mosquitoes. Would Ram sleep in his tent tonight now that Bohn and Duen would undoubtedly share one again and Ram’s original space would be free again. 

“Hey,” Tee squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t fall asleep out here. Everyone's going to bed.”

King yawned and sat up again, realising it was much later than he had thought. Almost everyone was asleep already. He said good night to Tee and then tiptoed to his tent, trying to be quiet. He spent what felt like minutes trying to unzip the door without waking Ram up and was relieved to find him fast asleep when he stepped inside. Then he took about as much time again to zip it closed. 

When he found Ram’s pill bottle next to his bag, one pill already placed on it's lid for him, he sat down heavily on his mat, staring at Ram’s back. He couldn’t understand how a person could be that considerate. Once again, he thought back to his first impression of Ram. He had thought him cold and distant and possibly dangerous, too, and definitely lacking in empathy. Now that he knew him, he knew the opposite was true. Ram was kind and caring and incredibly aware of what was going on around him and he always tried to find ways to help out. And the only truly dangerous thing about him was that he had stolen his heart, fully and totally, and King didn’t know how to handle it. 

He wished he could just see him as a good looking and slightly odd young man on whom he had a crush. But what he felt for him went much, much deeper. And he couldn’t allow himself to hurt him. He couldn’t possibly act on his emotions and destroy the most beautiful and fragile thing in his life. 

He exhaled shakily and forced himself to lie down, stretching out his hand and very, very gently placing it on Ram’s back, just under his left shoulder blade. He could feel his steady heartbeat and suddenly he had to swallow down tears again. He forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly and eventually he managed to pull his hand away and curl up on his own mat, falling asleep to the strange sounds of the night that surrounded them. 

His phone woke him, earlier than he had intended. His grandmother had texted him, telling him that she wouldn’t come to pick him up on the next day but that she would send a driver. And that he could bring his friend, if he wanted to. 

King glared at his phone and then looked at Ram, who hadn’t moved at all. He fought the urge to touch him again and when he couldn't stand it anymore, he got up and went to take a shower, safe in the knowledge that Ram wouldn’t suddenly pop out of a cubicle, half naked and wet. 

Breakfast was already being served when he had gotten dressed and he went to get some food and tea before taking his clothes and the towel back to the tent. Ram had left and he was glad that he did not have to face him. 

Once they took off to climb the summit of a neighbouring mountain, King realised that it had now been 24 hours that Ram had last spoken to him and he had to turn around to see whether he was there. He found him immediately and, in an almost ironic twist of fate, Ram looked up in exactly the same moment, their eyes meeting across the heads of two dozen people. King clenched his hands into fists, trying not to let it affect him and failing. He turned around again, trying to steady his heart. 

He was trying not to think about him, chatting with his friends and feeing much relieved that his scar was neither hurting nor itching and that he could move without the threat of a headache. But one time he almost tripped over a rock and he almost expected Ram to grab him, but he wasn’t there. King turned around to look down the slope they had come up and once again, Ram lifted his eyes just a second later, only to look away again immediately after meeting King’s eyes. He did not look happy, even though Duen's troubles had disappeared. 

That thought stayed with King even as they reached the summit. They spread out a little, taking photos, some alone and some in groups, and King was glad to see Ram pose for pictures with his friends, even smiling in some. 

When they were all called together for a group photo, King had hoped that somehow Ram would end up next to him. He had gotten so used to their friends leaving room for both of them that he was confused when he was squeezed in between Tee and Boss with Phu and Tang in front of him and Ram several feet away from him. 

He tried not to think about the fact that this would be the one group photo of their trip and they wouldn’t be next to each other. When the person taking the photo called them to order, he forced himself to look away from Ram and smile, but he didn’t feel like smiling at all. Not being with Ram didn’t feel right anymore. After two photos had been taken, he thought it was over, and his eyes sought Ram out again. He felt a small shock when he found him looking up at him, his eyes incredibly sad. He appeared to have looked up at him before King had looked down, and something shifted in him. 

What if … he thought. What if Ram did have feelings for him, too? What if it wasn’t just him being kind that kept him close. What if he talked to him and cared for him so much because he actually liked him? 

The thought was too large to wrap his mind around in and it left him dizzy and with a hammering heart that he couldn’t quite get to calm down again. He noticed that a couple of more pictures were taken, but Ram’s eyes hadn’t left his and he knew that their connection had been captured in those pictures now. 

And then it was all over and people scattered around again and when he tried to find Ram, he couldn’t see him anymore. He sat down on a rock for a while, trying to calm down. What if Ram had not only tried to warm him up two nights ago. What if he had wanted to be close to him. He could have warmed him up in a different way, but he had used his own body heat and he had been so very close to him. And the night before that, when King had found himself snuggled up to him. Ram’s arm had hugged him close, in a similar way, and their hands had been clasped between them and their feet tangled. It wasn’t just one person hugging another. They had both sought out each other and Ram had held him in his sleep. 

King rubbed his face and groaned in frustration. He had to stop projecting. He had to stop hoping. From the day Ram had joined the volunteers, he had stared at King. And he had done it countless times since. He hadn’t changed. What had changed was King’s perception of it. 

He angrily kicked at the gravel, unable to reign in his frustration. Realising that he would draw attention to himself if he just became angry for no apparent reason, he walked away from the others, towards the lake. Then he picked up the largest rock he could find and hurled it into the water. It helped a little to have found a direction into which to channel his anger. He picked up another rock and threw that, too. But then he noticed that the waves that were caused by his rocks weren’t the only ones on the surface of the water and he looked to his right, finding Ram, of all people, sitting there, staring at the lake. 

Despite everything, his first instinct was to go and talk to him. Something in the posture of his body told King that Ram wasn’t alright; but he couldn’t, could he? Not when they hadn’t talked at all today or yesterday, except for that embarrassing moment in the shower, and he had practically begged Ram to leave him alone. 

Just then, Ram looked up and right at him and King wanted to scream. He could see that Ram was trying to smile, but he looked like he would start crying instead and King couldn’t take it. He turned and walked away, feeling like a horrible friend. What if Ram needed him to talk to him about his father and he simply left him to deal with it on his own?

He went back to his friends and tried to keep up with their jokes and jibes, but found that nothing could make him smile. When he remembered that he would leave for his grandma’s in the morning and not see Ram for ten days, he had to sit down and bury his head in his hands, lying that his injury was bothering him. Boss gave him a bottle of water and King drank all of it, and when they were told to hike back down the mountain, he simply followed his friends, feeling slightly dizzy. 

On the way, he took another painkiller, hoping that he would fall asleep quickly once they returned to the camp, but once there, Tee convinced him that he needed to participate in a card game to honour the final night at the volunteer camp. Boss and Mek joined after Tee convinced them by dangling his spiked whisky in front of their noses. 

And then Ram silently sat down by the table, across from him, wearing the sweater King had lent him. King tried not to imagine how soft it would feel against Ram’s skin and failed. From that moment on, he avoided looking at Ram. Ting Ting, Phu and Tang joined them as well, and then the cards were dealt out and the first round went by slowly, with everyone still trying to keep their heads, but soon people started dropping out and drinking Tee’s whisky. When it was King’s turn, he was glad for the alcohol. He knew it would hit him harder than the others because of the painkiller he had taken, but if it meant that he could stop feeling so much then he would take that chance. 

The second shot made him lose track of his thoughts a little and he dared to glance at Ram every now and then, when he was sure he wasn’t looking. 

The third made him realise that it had probably been a terrible idea to participate in Tee’s drinking game while on meds with a broken heart. The fourth finished him. He dropped out of the game and rested his head on his arms, listening to the others chat, waiting for Ram’s voice which never came. 

He must have drifted off, because the next thing he remembered was someone squeezing his shoulder very gently. But he was quite comfortable, leaning on the table, and he’d much rather not move thank you very much. So he told whoever was trying to make him get up and move that he wouldn’t. “Don’t touch me, I want to sleep here,” he brushed the hand away and felt quite satisfied that he had managed that. 

But the hand on his shoulder returned, shaking a little more forcefully now. King lifted his head with a grunt to glare at the disturber. It was Ram.

And suddenly all of his pent-up anger bubbled up. How dare he disturb him like this. He was fine. He could take care of himself. He didn’t need coddling. 

He pushed Ram’s hand away. “I told you to leave me alone,” he snapped, dropping back down on the table, hoping that Ram would go far away. He didn’t trust himself to be around him in this state. Or in any state, really. Not anymore. And the table was absolutely fine …

When his arm was lifted away from the table, he didn’t have enough energy to complain or enough coordination to push him away again. He noticed that he was dragged upright, and he knew that it must have been Ram who was holding him up and slowly leading him away, but at least he was trying to make him walk on his own. And, considering that Ram wasn’t averse to carrying him on his back, he counted that as him trying to give him the space he had demanded.

Nevertheless, he was still much, much too close. 

When they stumbled into the tent, King felt suddenly trapped.

“Let go!” he bit out, knowing that there was no reason for Ram to still be holding him. “I told you to let me go!”

Ram put him down, slowly, his movement and touches measured, as if he hadn’t been drinking, too, and as if King’s warning hadn’t been clear enough. King knelt, wondering for a second whether he needed to throw up or whether his twisting stomach came from feeling Ram’s hand on his waist as he tried to stabilize him. Probably a bit of both. 

And Ram didn’t let go of him, but tried to make him sit up on the back of his heels, probably to give him something to drink and check on him, and King couldn’t take it anymore. “I said, don’t bother me!” He spat and pushed at him, blindly, almost surprised when Ram moved back a little. But not far enough away. Not nearly far enough.

King raised his eyes, looking at him, the alcohol in his system making it hard for him to focus on anything in particular, but he noticed his frustration pushing at the fuzzy edges of his consciousness, and he managed to hold up his head. 

And Ram, beautiful, kind, gentle Ram, just sat there, looking hurt, and King knew it was his doing. “Why?” 

Ram’s voice was tiny, as if he was truly afraid to hear the answer, and King knew he couldn’t possibly tell him the truth. 

“There’s no why,” he shot back, but even as he spoke, Ram moved a little closer and King felt even more trapped than before. “You can leave now!” he looked at what he hoped was the opening of the tent, but Ram continued to stare at him, unmoving. 

“No!” He said, sounding a little less intimidated and a lot angrier. “I won’t leave before you tell me why!”

King felt panic rise in him. He couldn’t explain. He could only ask him to leave, for Ram’s and his own sake. Why couldn’t he just leave? Why couldn’t he just let him cry himself to sleep, missing him so much already that he was in physical pain, even though Ram was still right there, just inches away from him.

“I told you to leave!” he tried again, throwing his arm towards to door. “You annoy me!” He was shouting now and he knew that he probably shouldn’t. People would hear. But his words seemed to have no effect on Ram and he couldn’t understand that. If Ram had screamed at him, he would have left, wouldn’t he?

“Get out!” he shouted, his voice cracking, but Ram still, unbelievably, simply sat there and looked back at him, as if he was entirely unafraid of King. “Why?” When Ram spoke, his voice was so gentle that King felt his resistance crumble. And King knew he had to tell the truth. He realised he was starting to hyperventilate, unable to form words for a moment, as he thought about the many, many times he had wanted to be close to Ram. The many times he had fought the urge to touch him, to kiss him, to confess how much he meant to him. The many times that being with Ram had made everything that much better, and the colours in his life more vivid. The reward for his patience when Ram had finally began talking to him. Had finally opened up to him and trusted him. And he was about to take a sledge hammer to it all, but there was no turning back. Ram wouldn’t leave without knowing the truth, he was certain of that.

He glared at Ram, daring him, still, to just leave. But he stayed where he was, waiting patiently for the blow that was to come. 

“It tortures me! I feel tortured, you know?” He didn’t know how else to explain it, but it came closest to the endless frustration that came with not being able to act on his feelings. 

And Ram looked horrified. Somehow, he hadn’t noticed that Ram wasn’t just looking at him, but that he was affected by what he had said. And now he looked confused and sad and King wanted to take it all back. 

“Because of me?” Ram asked, sounding lost. 

Did he really not see? Was he really so oblivious of how he made King feel? How he was always, always on his mind these days. “Yes!” He pushed his hair out of his eyes, trying to find the courage to go on. He realised that his panic had cleared his head considerably and he finally managed to tell Ram the truth, come what may. “Because you make me feel good!” he explained, his voice shaky but still firm. He inhaled again, forcing himself to go on, even though Ram didn’t react at all. “That’s why it’s torturing me. Do you know how hard I have to hold myself back every time I am near you? It tortures me, you know?”

And Ram still sat there, unmoving, unspeaking, not showing the smallest hint that what King had just said had registered with him, except that he still looked like he might start crying any second now. But he knew it wasn’t true. He knew that Ram was very, very good at hiding his true feelings when he wanted to, and he felt locked out. He could not take not knowing what Ram was thinking. He couldn’t take not being able to read him. 

“That’s why I need you to be far away from me! So I don’t feel all this pain inside!” he shouted, desperate for a reaction. Any reaction. Something in the back of his mind told King that the mere fact that Ram still sat right there, still holding his gaze, was a reaction, but he pushed the thought away. It only confused him. 

“That’s the reason.” He felt himself get angry again, but this time it was much more focused. “Now I told you! Are you happy?” King was shouting again and he knew that the others must have heard him, but he couldn’t feel ashamed now. Infuriatingly, Ram still hadn’t moved. 

“Are you happy?” King screamed once more, desperation taking over. He pushed Ram so hard that he fell back, a stunned expression on his face for a moment, but once more, he straightened, and sat up again and then he moved even closer than before and King stopped functioning. 

Any last bit of self-control he had had was stripped away by Ram’s gentle eyes meeting his once again. King squeezed his own eyes shut, unable to bear witness to the destruction of their friendship, and, clasping Ram’s neck, he pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips met violently, hard enough to bruise, but if this was the one time he would get to feel Ram’s lips on his own, then he would take what he could get. 

He registered that Ram wasn’t pulling away, like he had expected, and he couldn't make any sense of it. Neither was he pushed away. Just as before, Ram wasn’t moving, letting King do to him what he had to and King’s heart broke. It was so much worse than he had feared and he would never be able to look him in the eye again and …

And then Ram’s hands settled on his face, his thumbs against his cheeks and his fingers under his ears, touching him so softly that King was shocked by it. Ram’s fingertips pushed into his hair, and then he pulled back, just a little bit, taking the bruising pressure out of their connection, only to guide them back together much more gently, and King felt the world tilt. Ram was kissing him back. 

Ram was kissing him. 

Ram. 

Was kissing him. 

King had never experienced his entire body going from panic mode into absolute and total relief within the span of two seconds. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. But then the doubts came back. 

Was Ram just kissing him to calm him down? Was he kissing him because he now knew that it was what King wanted? Or was he kissing him because … he wanted to. 

They parted, and a sob escaped him. But they were still connected. Ram’s hands were still holding him and their foreheads touched and he felt his doubts swept away when Ram kissed him again, impossibly gently. And then Ram opened his mouth and King melted against him, moving closer, finally allowing himself to listen to what his body told him. His fingers slipped into Ram’s hair, like he had imagined so often. And then his hand dropped down to Ram's chest, taking hold of the sweatshirt, his own, soft fabric on Ram’s body, and he pulled him closer still, feeling Ram shudder and hearing him moan. 

King had thought Ram’s laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world, but now he knew better. He pulled away and stared at him, amazed to see tears on Ram’s cheeks and in his eyelashes. For a moment, he tried to understand what had just happened, but he quickly realised that it was too huge for him to wrap his mind around. 

Ram had kissed him back. And not only that. He had taken control of the kiss. And he had become aroused at King’s touch. And he hadn’t been able to be quiet. Ram. Silent, beautiful Ram, had moaned loudly at being kissed and touched, and King wanted to climb into his lap and see if he could do it again. But he knew it would be too soon, because Ram looked just as stunned as he felt. 

Then he realised that he was still holding on to his sweatshirt and he let go, wiping the tears from his face. Ram did the same. 

“Are you okay?” Ram asked, kissing King again, quickly. And King felt exhaustion settle over him. Now that his heartbeat was returning to something resembling a normal pace, he felt the effect of the alcohol again and he felt a little sick. He closed his eyes and nodded. 

“I’m sorry,” Ram whispered. “I never meant for you to be in pain. I’m so sorry!” 

King wanted to scream at him for being an idiot, but he was the idiot, wasn’t he? Ram had shown him physical affection all the time, only King had misread it all, thinking he was reading too much into his touches when, in reality, they had been Ram’s way of expression his feelings for him. How could he have been so blind. His thumbs stroking his back after the bike ride, the constant touch of his hand around his wrist, the way he had looked at him in the park as they had lain on the grass under the tree, the hope of a kiss already imprinted in the air between them, the way he had held him in the night before camp and the way he had tried to do it again two nights ago. Ram had been so close and he had only been waiting for King to close the final distance, and King had panicked instead, and told him to leave him alone and … Ram had looked sad all day. He swallowed hard, realising what he had done to him without intending to. And yet Ram was the one apologising? 

He wanted to tell him off for it, but found his mouth too dry and his mind too frazzled to be able to give voice to his thoughts. 

“Can I have some water?” he asked timidly, and Ram immediately fished his own water bottle from the corner of the tent. Once again, King thought back to all those times he had been ready to help him, whether it was to catch him before he could fall, or whether it was to make sure that King had everything he needed. What he had believed was just general consideration, he now realised had been small declarations of love. Well, love might be too big of a word, but then again … maybe it wasn’t. He nodded his thanks and drank deeply before he handed it back to Ram. 

“I’m drunk,” he admitted, biting his lip when Ram’s eyes lit up in amusement. 

“I don’t want you to leave me alone,” King added, knowing that he couldn’t rest before he had made that point very clear to Ram, just in case he was still in doubt.

“I’m glad,” Ram smiled and King felt relief flood him. He hadn’t realised how worried he still was about what he had said earlier and to hear Ram acknowledge it took a weight off his shoulders he had not quite realised he was carrying. When the tears came, he had no strength left to hold them back. But this time, it was Ram who pulled him into his arms, and eventually he pulled King down with him, hugging him tightly, letting him sob against his chest, one hand steadily rubbing his back. He cried until he was too exhausted to even do that. He was just about to drift off when he felt Ram’s lips against his forehead and his heart sang. “Sleep well, King,” Ram whispered and King forced himself to stay awake for a bit longer, marvelling at the turn of events. He pressed himself harder against Ram, his face rubbing against the soft fabric of his own jumper. Whatever the morning would bring, he would always, always have this moment.


End file.
